Hollow Beginnings
by EmeraldRomance
Summary: In the Dark Hollow, Emma watched as her two potential loves nearly lost their shadows, and therefore their lives. What if Hook had not escaped unscathed? In a desperate bid to save him, Emma may have inadvertently bound them deeper than true love ever planned. Follows canon up to Season 3 Episode 07, then departs in my own merry way. Captain Swan. Emma POV
1. Dark Hollow

**Summary**: In the Dark Hollow, Emma watched as her two potential loves nearly lost their shadows, and therefore their lives. What if Hook had not escaped unscathed? In a desperate bid to save him, Emma may have inadvertently bound them deeper than true love ever planned. Follows canon up to Emma, Hook and Neal arriving at the Dark Hollow to capture Pan's shadow, then departs in a wholly different way.

**Disclaimer**: This is a work of fan-fiction. The characters are property of Once Upon a Time, and I am only borrowing them. I make no profit from the sharing of this work. Quotations in bold borrowed from the show.

**Chapter 1**

**The Dark Hollow**

My nose wrinkled at the offensive odor permeating the ochre-hued air. Combined with the incessant cawing of birds and the twisted trees – so different than the tropical oasis of the rest of this cursed island – I felt as though I'd unwillingly stepped into a bad horror movie.

The Dark Hollow, they'd called it. _Not a movie, Emma; it's your life! _Yeah, things just kept getting better and better.

**"I've only got one hand, but I'll still do a better job!"** Hook's lilting voice interrupted my musing, calling attention to the renewed pissing contest between my would-be-suitors which had started the moment we'd rescued Neal from Echo Cave.

"Knock it off; this is not the time!" I shouted, stepping closer to try and claim the lighter for myself and put an end to their macho posturing. We needed to get this over and done with as soon as possible.

Neal shoved Hook away from where they were trying to ignite the magical coconut candle designed to capture Pan's shadow, and we all watched – shocked – as the action caused the lighter to slip from the pirate's grasp and fly into a nearby tree stump. The dread which filled my body was compounded by the sudden arrival of three shadow creatures with glowing eyes.

"Looks like we've got company," Neal commented. "Quick, grab the coconut!"

"Which one is Pan?" I asked as I attempted to sway one of the shadows from closing in with a swing of my sword.

"He's controlling all of them," Hook replied as he and Neal circled the clearing, but his words were swallowed by one of the shadows as it positioned itself between me and them.

I reached back and just barely grasped the coconut with my fingertips before lunging toward the hollowed-out trunk containing the lighter. With my back pressed against the rotting wood, I held the shell tightly against my chest and watched for a distraction which could allow me to reach in and grab the lighter. In front of me, Neal and Hook swung their weapons in an attempt to hold the shadows at bay, but all it seemed to do was rile them further; after all, metal could hardly harm _air_.

My heart pounded violently against my ribs as the three shadows suddenly changed course and converged over my head. A ghostly black arm wrapped around my shoulder and tugged. Pain exploded from where it touched me as surely as if I were being skinned alive.

"Emma!" I heard Hook's voice pierce the enveloping darkness and the pain immediately stopped. As I sucked in air to regain my shaken confidence, my eyes scanned my surroundings wildly. Two of the shadows had targeted my accomplices and were pinning them to trees, weapons discarded on the ground beneath their feet. Their cries of pain joined the mocking sound of the crows and ripped at my heart like icy claws.

"Oh God," I murmured, terrified and helpless, my eyes widening almost beyond comprehension as the outline of Hook's aura began detaching itself from his body. ** "Hook!"** I screamed, voice thick with some emotion I'd not allowed myself to think about until that moment. A quick flick of my eyes revealed Neal in the exact same danger.

A well of raw, untamed emotion rioted through me. I'd never felt so completely enraged, scared and helpless all at the same time. My fingers tightened into fists and I remembered what I was holding. The coconut shell vibrated in recognition of the magic coursing across my skin. A quick thought to my lesson with Regina, and I knew I had to try, and more, that I would succeed.

Channeling all of my feeling at the tiny black wick, I laughed – a small, broken sound – as the flame ignited. Above me, the infamous shadow of the boy who would never grow up seemed to realize its plan for ambushing me had backfired, and I watched with a sick sort of fascination as it was pulled into its magical cage. The top of the shell clicked merrily into place a moment before two thuds resounded through the hollow.

I scrambled to my feet and approached the two men who lay sprawled at the base of the trees they'd been pinned to. Neal pushed to his knees almost immediately, his eyes trained on the closed shell still clutched in my grip.

**"How did you do that?"** He shook his head as though to clear it, but my attention focused on Hook, noticing he'd yet to move from his prone position. **"Regina…she's teaching you magic; isn't she…"** Neal's voice sounded fuzzy and distant, like he was speaking through water.

I reached Hook's side and gently called his name. All the adrenalin which had fueled my magic prickled in my veins, adding to the nausea building in my stomach as I waited for a sign that all three of us were okay. "Hook," I called louder and reached out to shake his shoulder, fully expecting him to roll over and offer me a lazy grin accompanied by an innuendo-laced comment about not being able to keep my hands off him.

The leather of his coat felt too cool under my fingers. I shoved him harder, my voice repeating his name with a growing sense of urgency. Neal appeared in my periphery and the two of us rolled Hook over onto his back. I clasped his face between my hands and growled, "Dammit Hook,_ wake up_!" Leaning down, I listened for the tell tale signs of life – breath and heartbeat – but it was as if he was as hollow as the place we currently occupied. I refused to acknowledge the tears flooding my eyes, nor the way my own heartbeat had tripled in speed.

Working almost on autopilot, I assumed the position to provide chest compressions and started the rhythmic motions while chanting "please, please, please" under my breath with each exertion. He couldn't be gone, he just couldn't. There was too much unresolved between us, and besides, he was a fairy tale character; he was Captain_ Bloody_ Hook for Christ's sake! He wasn't supposed to die!

I moved to give him rescue breaths and was met by Neal's hand firmly holding me back. "He's gone, Emma! They must have taken his shadow. There's nothing you can do."

"Don't!" I growled. Unwilling, or maybe incapable, of believing it was over. I tilted his head back and sealed my lips to his, exhaling into his seemingly lifeless body. My mind raced with the memory of the only other time my lips had met his and how surprised I'd been at the passion between us. I'd known there would be desire, but I'd not expected the tenderness, too. With Henry on the line, I couldn't allow myself to consider what it could mean; I couldn't be distracted by anything or _anyone_. Later, when we'd all returned to Storybrooke, I knew there would be choices to make. What was it Hook had said mere hours before? **"When you do succeed, that's when the fun begins…" **

He was willing to fight for me. I sure as hell owed him the same in return.

The tears I'd ignored trickled down my face and I could taste their salt as I blew once more. "I'm not giving up, Killian," I whispered. Placing my hands over his heart, I resumed the compressions and let my memory swim with all the experiences we'd shared, good and bad. Every smirk, every tease, every denied trip of my pulse.

"Emma…" I heard Neal's voice beside me, "Emma, what are you doing?" The question was instilled with quiet astonishment.

I followed his gaze to where my hands rested above Hook's heart. A soft white glow radiated from my skin. A sense of hope mixed with fear swelled within me as I continued the compressions. "I…I don't know," I exhaled. "He can't die, Neal, he just_ can't_…"

The glowing from my hands pulsed so brightly that I had to move to shield my eyes, before its quick expulsion plunged the hollow into darkness once more. I reached out to feel for Hook and was met by the same unmoving leather-clad body as before. I sucked in a breath and stumbled backwards. "No!"

"Shh, Emma, wait, listen," Neal called, his ear pressed to the pirate's chest. Frantically, I positioned myself next to him and picked up the quiet thudding of a restored heart beat.

"Hook!" I shook him, hard. His heart was beating, and he was breathing again, but he still wouldn't awaken. "What's wrong with him? Why isn't he waking up?" I looked to Neal. "Is it a curse?"

Neal looked as dumbfounded as I'd ever seen him. He held his hands up uselessly. "I have no idea. By all rights, if they took his shadow, he should be dead."

"Maybe they didn't take it; I mean, I only saw the three original shadows." I tried to control the tendril of hope blossoming in my thoughts.

We both stared at the unconscious form of Captain Hook in silence. I felt weak with the exertion of fighting off the shadows and then confronting the real possibility that I had lost someone who had come to mean more to me than I'd allowed myself to acknowledge. Neal took my hand cautiously. "You saved his life, Emma." There was so much more behind his words than their apparent meaning, but I didn't have the energy to deal with anymore. At least not yet.

I stood on slightly trembling legs and brushed the dirt off my pants. "We've got to get him back to the others. Maybe someone will know what to do."

"Emma…" Neal tried to capture my eyes, "Just what happened between you two?"

"Nothing," I sighed.

"You acted like your heart was breaking. He's a _pirate_, Em." His voice was soft, but the accusation still rang true.

"What do you want me to say? He saved my father's life and he's helping us save Henry. He doesn't deserve this, and anyways, I…I can't deal with this right now. Just help me get him back to the others. Neal, _please_," I hated the twinge of desperation in my tone.

Neal wisely didn't say anything more, but from the look in his eyes, I knew this conversation was not over. He sighed before hefting the slightly larger man into a fireman's carry. "What I wouldn't give for some pixie dust," he mumbled.

Our trek back to Tinkerbell's home was slower than our original journey, no doubt due to the extra weight Neal carried, but despite the wild jungle-like path, and the somewhat unwieldy bundle he shouldered, he never broke his stride or complained about the exertion. He also never broke the silence that had descended upon us. I knew he had questions; we'd hardly had a chance to speak since we were reunited at Echo Cave. Though, I suspected his thoughts were as distracted at that moment as my own.

I walked closely behind him, giving me ample opportunity to survey them both: one walking tall and strong, the other with eyes closed and defenseless. I'd told Neal I loved him when I thought I was about to lose him. But I hadn't felt nearly the same violent eruption of emotion at the sight of him falling into the portal as I had moments ago when I thought Hook was truly dead. Was it just the fear of a final, ultimate parting that caused me such panic? I let my eyes trace Hook's face, took in the curl of his black lashes, missing his expressive blue eyes, and imagined never seeing them flirt with me across a room or clearing again. And it_ hurt_. I couldn't pinpoint when he had become so important to me, but I felt somehow responsible for his current predicament. Was that all it was, then? Was my emotional panic due to a massive case of guilt?

"We're here," Neal's sudden words snapped my eyes away from Hook to take in the much less menacing hollow inhabited by Tinkerbell. He hefted Hook off his shoulder and deposited him, perhaps not-so-gently, against a tree trunk.

Mary Margaret and David rushed across the glen. "Emma, what happened? Are you okay? What's wrong with Hook?"

Still reeling from the events of the day, I simply stood there, no clue where to even start explaining.

"We're okay," Neal started, his expression lingering on my face before he turned to speak directly to Mary Margaret. "We got Pan's shadow, but they did something to Hook. He almost died. Emma saved him." Mary Margaret's eyes flicked between the pirate and my face, her curiosity anything but subtle.

"We don't know why he won't wake up. It's got to be some kind of curse…" I started to say.

"Not a curse, Dearie, he's in a state of half-life." The sudden reappearance of Gold aka Rumpelstiltskin caused an involuntary gasp to resound from our assembled group. My head swiveled to the right, taking in Neal lifting a sword to his own father. "Bae," Gold exclaimed.

"Don't trust him," Neal commanded. "He's after Henry."

"Nonsense." The familiar voice of Regina, the Evil Queen, sounded from behind me. She walked to the middle of the clearing with the same calm arrogance she always displayed when she thought she had the upper hand. She held out a strange silver box with a red jewel on the lid. "He's helping us_ save_ Henry. He's done more than any of the rest of you."

"What's in the box?" David inquired. His stance matched Neal's, though his tone was light enough.

"Peter Pan." Gold smiled, before turning to look at the coconut I held. "And I see you've retrieved Pan's shadow. This is most excellent news, indeed. Now, all we require is the boy and we can be on our way."

"Do you really think I'll let you near my son? I don't care who you've got trapped in that box, you will stay far away from Henry." Neal closed in on his father.

"I'd like to hear what this is about," I spoke, standing guard over an unconscious Hook while my eyes vacillated between Neal and his father.

"There's some sort of prophecy stating that Henry will be his undoing. He'll help us rescue him alright, but only so he can kill him himself."

"What?" exclaimed Mary Margaret, David, and myself.

"Bae, you must believe me; I will never harm Henry, not intentionally. While it's true there is a prophecy, I've found a way around it." He motioned to the box held by Regina. "This is Pandora's box. We used it to trap Peter Pan. Without him, the Lost Boys are merely wild children. And now that we have the shadow as well, we can gather Henry and return home."

"What about David?" Mary Margaret interjected. "And Hook? We can't just leave them here on this island. There has to be something we can do."

"We are wasting time," Regina interjected. "We need to focus on saving my son. The rest of this can wait." She turned to me, secure that I would agree with her statement, mother to mother. And while I agreed Henry was still a priority, I wasn't so sure it would be as simple to waltz in and take Henry from the Lost Boys as Gold assumed.

I felt five pairs of eyes staring at me, waiting for a command or at the very least, a comment. And suddenly I felt completely drained. It was all too much. I couldn't focus. My mind and emotions were torn in so many directions and yet I knew I couldn't rest. Every challenge we defeated was replaced by even more challenges. We'd come so far, yet still had so much to do. They looked to me as their savior, but they didn't know just how scared I was almost every single second; how I forced myself to maintain walls just so I didn't crumble.

My eyes drifted down to Hook. He knew. He saw right through me and claimed to care for me anyways. I took a deep, steadying breath and turned back to the very different people assembled before me, pondering for just a moment the ridiculousness of our party: an Evil Queen, a dark sorcerer, his son, the ultimate fairy-tale princess and her Prince Charming, and an outcast fairy. But then I noticed we were one short. "Where's Tinkerbell?" I asked.

"She went to scout the location of the Lost Boy's current camp. We told her we had a way off the island so she's making good on her promise," Mary Margaret responded, her smile proclaiming her love and belief in me in a way that words never could.

I stepped closer to Gold, leveling my gaze directly at him. "Are you planning to hurt my son? You know I can tell if you lie."

"I would no more harm him then you would your unconscious friend over there, Dearie," he answered vaguely. Only, I was beginning to suspect he wasn't being vague at all. I turned back to look at Hook, somewhat shocked at the tiny jolt of panic which spiked in my chest when I saw how close Regina was standing to him. Just when had I become so protective of him?

Turning back at Gold, I caught a look of complete understanding pass across his dark eyes, chased by the recent memory of my hands glowing brightly against Hook's chest as I administered CPR. He knew. He knew I'd done something other than human first-aid to save him. I gasped quietly, too quietly for anyone else to hear, but it was enough to earn me a flash of one of Gold's teeth. "Not now," he whispered.

"Right. I say we make a plan." Neal's tone brooked no argument from the rest of us. "We'll wait for Tink to bring us information about where the Lost Boys have Henry. It's true that without Peter they will be less organized, but they've still got centuries of practice on their side, and we shouldn't underestimate them."

"And I'll repeat myself, what about David? Hook said if he continues to drink the enchanted water, he can return to Storybrooke and live long enough for Rumpelstiltskin to create a cure." Mary Margaret stared directly at the sorcerer in question, who merely nodded in response.

"We could split up. Some of us go to the camp, and some of us go get the water." Neal suggested. "Tink and I know the Lost Boys better than the rest of you, so we can get Henry-"

"There is no possible way that I will not be joining you in retrieving my son. And I suggest we bring _all_ the magic with us that we possess just so we are not, as you say, _underestimating_ them. Gold and Miss Swan will join us as well." Regina's eyes glinted with her resolve.

"David and I can go get the water. Shall we all meet at the Jolly Roger?" Mary Margaret's tone had taken on its optimistic quality now that a plan was forming.

"Yes, indeed, but may I inquire as to how you plan to commandeer the enchanted ship without its captain?" Gold smiled with that mix of innocence and insensitivity he used when he knew something that the rest of us didn't. "He is certainly in no position to get there on his own and this is a dangerous island. Will none of you stay to guard him while we carry out our various tasks?"

"If you're so concerned, maybe you should stay," Neal offered, his eyes still full of distrust.

Gold looked pointedly at me. "As he is here on Miss Swan's behest, she is really the only one who can speak on his behalf. What do you say, Dearie? Who among us shall babysit the pirate?"

I glared at Gold, hating the position I found myself in, and worse, knowing that he knew how uncomfortable I felt with all of it. He knew I was torn, but also that I would come to the same conclusion he had minutes ago. There was only _one_ person in our group who could stay behind; _one_ person who perhaps could be helpful, but was not vital to the mission of saving Henry. This same person was also the _only_ one with any sort of vested interest in the pirate at my feet. Stupid pirate and all his past vendettas. _This_ was why you didn't burn bridges!

"I'll stay," I conceded quietly, trying to ignore the judgment in Regina's eyes, just more confirmation to her that she was a better mother than I was. "It's the only way the plan makes sense."

"Emma, are you sure?" Mary Margaret surveyed the unconscious man behind me with a worried brow. "Maybe I should stay, too?"

I shook my head. "No, David needs another person with him as backup, and I agree with Regina that our biggest firepower should be focused on getting Henry back safely. So after you get the water, the three of us can get Hook back to the ship, and we can all leave together."

"Well, I'm glad to hear you can be rational, Miss Swan." Regina sidled up to me. "And here; you can use this to look in on our actions. Just in case." She handed me one half of a mirrored compact.

A rustling noise just beyond our perimeter jolted everyone into motion, weapons drawn. Seconds later, the blonde hair of Tinkerbell pushed past a crop of banana leaves, and she gasped at the sight of us. "Well, this is not the welcome I was expecting."

Neal lowered his sword and moved to relay the plan to the surprised fairy while the others gathered their things.

I felt him before I saw him; the slither of dark power over my skin had always reminded me of ants crawling on my arms. "No matter what you see in that mirror, Dearie, I wouldn't be racing off without your charge." He glanced down at Hook, nudging his foot with his scaly boot.

"Oh?" I inquired with the defiance in my tone that always seemed to come out when dealing with Gold.

"Answer me this, do you find yourself suddenly more protective of the rogue? Feeling a bit drained yourself?" He grinned.

I refused to answer, not that it mattered. Gold's grin widened. "Yes, well, be stubborn if you like, but on the chance that you don't heed my words, don't say I didn't warn you." He sauntered off to stand near Regina who was busy tucking Pandora's Box into a satchel slung over her shoulder. They were quickly joined by Neal and Tink, who offered me a sweet smile before the motley gang turned toward a path leading out of the hollow. Meeting my eyes Neal simply stated, "Be careful."

"They'll save him, Emma. I know they will." Mary Margaret wrapped me in a warm hug. "We'll be back soon." I didn't miss the way her eyes glanced warily at my 'charge.'

"Here, take this." David handed me an arrow. "The tip is dipped in Dreamshade. Just in case." He kissed the top of my head in the way that I'm sure he believed fathers did. This was still new to us.

"Thanks. And take care of each other. Don't worry about me." I murmured, feeling just a tad bit uncomfortable.

"Impossible," Mary Margaret smiled.

I watched in silence as they disappeared down a path further from where I stood guard. And then there were two.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** So there you have it; my first ever chapter in the Once Upon a Time fandom. I hope you continue reading...the ride gets quite exciting! (At least, I hope you think so, lol). Reviews are love! You can also find me on tumblr (emeraldromance).


	2. Crossing Lines

**Chapter 2**

**Crossing Lines**

Tinkerbell's hollow was roughly the size of a large living room and could be crossed in seven strides or about fifteen small steps. I knew, because I'd counted it a dozen times in the hour or so since the rest of our group had left. There were three large rocks, one good sized tree – currently sheltering a pirate – and a ladder leading up into her home. It was also very quiet. Unlike the Dark Hollow and its ominous caws and other creaks and moans, her little slice of Neverland was dampened by thick vegetation on all sides, providing a natural sort of soundproofing.

I pulled out the mirror and glanced at it – _again_ – but the scene still clearly showed the group on the march just as it had five minutes ago, and five minutes before that, not that I'd _really_ expected them to be there yet. We'd been in Neverland long enough for me to appreciate its size, and while I had no idea where the Lost Boys were, Tinkerbell's home away from home was deep in the jungle and seemingly far from everywhere else.

I pocketed the mirror and turned back to the other distraction in the clearing. One that was living and breathing, but offered no further sound to the entirely too cozy setting. I hadn't allowed myself to dwell on him in the time we'd been alone. I still couldn't figure out why I reacted the way I did or why every step I took away from him made me slightly anxious. I wanted to chalk it up to my sense of justice – he was in my protection so of course I worried for his safety – but here, alone, with only my annoying thoughts for company, I knew it was more than that.

I approached him cautiously like one would a wild animal and knelt beside him. With his eyes closed and his face completely at rest, I supposed he did look like he was sleeping, but even in sleep Captain Hook did not look entirely peaceful. I wondered if he was dreaming, and if so, who he dreamt about? He'd told me about his lost love, his Milah...did they reunite upon the high seas in his nightly wandering? What was a pirate's life _really_ like, anyways?

I shook my head and scoffed, chastising myself. What a ridiculous thing to be thinking about with everything else that was going on. I spared him one more glance, intending to return to my perimeter pacing, but stopped short at the slight change in his expression. A furrow had appeared between his eyes, almost in a grimace. "Hook?" I breathed. I reached out to trace the line of distress, but it softened before our skin connected. I started to drop my hand, but instead, I gently rubbed a spot of dirt off of his cheek before sitting cross-legged in front of him and pondering this mystery of a man a bit further.

He was beautiful, almost too handsome. He knew it, too, which surprisingly didn't lessen my appreciation for his features at all. Somehow, cockiness enhanced his appeal. And I hated cocky guys. I also swore to never get wrapped up with anyone outside the law again, not that I was planning to get involved with him. But he did fascinate me. From the moment he grinned and revealed his **more colorful moniker** in the Enchanted Forest he'd frequently touched on my thoughts. I figured it was due to how very different he was from his Disney counterpart, but there was something else, too. He'd been a villain...could _still_ turn out to be one...but part of me wanted to trust him, revenge-fueled pirate and all. Leaving him behind with the giant had not been as easy as it should've been. That it bothered me was the main reason I'd been able to do it. He was dangerous, yes; but some part of me inherently realized the danger he presented to me was not simply the physical kind.

"My how you've caused me to contradict all my hard won resolutions," I whispered. "There'd be no living with you if you knew the thoughts I've been thinking."

My tiny smile fell as I considered what I was doing...what I had already done. He was never supposed to get this close. He had somehow found a chink in my wall that he was enlarging day by day. He challenged me like no one ever had. He also terrified me because the closer he got, the more I knew he could hurt me. Was it really only a few weeks ago that I bashed him over the head in New York then left him behind again? And now here I was saving him. Protecting him.

I reached out and shoved his shoulder, testing the strength of his coma, or whatever he was in. Much like my incessant mirror gazing, I didn't really expect any change, but I was still disappointed when he remained as he was. "We'll figure this out, Hook…Killian, I promise." Safe in the knowledge that we were alone and he was unconscious, I let my fingertips trace his perfect mouth. "I won't let you be stranded here in Neverland."

With a soft sigh, I stood and pulled out the mirror once more. Expecting to see jungle vines and plants like usual, I was shocked to see about fifteen or so boys standing in a line with various weapons aimed toward me, or rather, the group possessing the other half of the mirror. "Regina…can you hear me? Regina!" I tried shouting. The boys parted just enough to showcase a view of a smaller boy tied to a spit. An enormous camp fire raged just beyond him.

"Henry!" I cried, my heart leaping with terror. The edges of the compact cut into my hand as my grip tightened, but I scarcely noticed.

"Miss Swan!" Regina's voice, accompanied by her stern face, growled in warning. "Do be quiet! You're just watching, remember? We've got this." To my utter frustration, she put the mirror in her satchel instead of turning it back to the action, giving me a completely unhelpful view of Pandora's Box and nothing else.

"Regina!" I yelled again. My pacing turned manic. "Dammit!" I screamed at no one before gazing intently at the mirror again, willing it to move out of Regina's bag.

Amidst the blood rushing through my ears, I heard what sounded like the hoots and hollering of a native war tribe. I pressed my ear closer to the mirror and made out voices – Gold, then Regina, Gold again – before a single harrowing cry pierced straight through my heart: "Mom!"

The mirror slipped from my fingers as I rushed out of the clearing in the direction the four had taken. I made it about five yards from the hollow before something reached out and grabbed my shoulders, yanking me back the way I came so violently that I fell backwards and then there was only blackness.

**E&K&E&K&E&K**

"Emma? Emma, honey, you've got to wake up." A gentle, musical voice drifted through my conscience, followed by the touch of petal-soft fingers caressing my brow. "I think she hit her head."

"I've got her," a much deeper voice responded before I felt the sensation of flying up into the air. "Emma, sweetheart, you're going to be fine."

My eyes peeled open to meet the calm blue gaze of Prince Charming. "David…" I tried to speak, but my throat felt raw. His answering smile, meant to soothe, only increased my anxiety. With painful clarity, my last thoughts came back. "Henry! He was screaming; we've got to get to him!" I struggled to free myself from David's arms, landing somewhat unceremoniously on my backside.

The beautiful, but slightly worried face of Mary Margaret appeared. "I just spoke with Regina through the mirror. They've got Henry and are on their way to the ship." She offered me a hand and pulled me up. "Emma, what happened? Why did we find you passed out beyond the clearing?"

Looking around, I realized we were close to the mouth of the pathway I'd taken when I charged off after the cry of Henry. Not one of my smartest ideas, clearly, but I'd reacted on pure instinct. Seeing the clearing brought back my other concerns, though. "Hook," I exhaled before pushing past my parents and rushing to his side. The grimace I'd noticed earlier was etched across his face. "He's in pain," I noted.

Mary Margaret knelt beside us and reached a hand up to his forehead. "He's burning up. No wonder really, it's like an inferno in this clearing. Help me get his coat off."

Together, we shucked the pirate captain of his chosen armor. I draped the heavy coat over a nearby rock, trying to ignore the intoxicating scent of leather and the sea before returning to where Mary Margaret was now patting his face with a wet cloth. "You didn't answer me; what happened while we were gone?"

"How long have you been gone?" I asked seriously, almost afraid of the answer. Hook's pallor was slightly paler than I'd remembered, and the rising of his chest was much shallower than before.

"About three hours. We came back to find Hook alone, so naturally we were concerned. I found you just a few feet down the path, but it looked like you'd been dragged backwards?" David's statement, or rather question, brought forth yet another thought.

I stood and paced around the small clearing, peering into the dense surroundings. "Did you see any signs of anyone else when you got here?"

"No, no one. Emma? What's going on?" Mary Margaret tried again, her patience obviously wearing thing.

I continued my search while explaining, "I heard Henry scream through the mirror. I saw him tied up and surrounded by the Lost Boys before Regina shoved the mirror in her bag. I didn't know what was going on, and I wasn't even thinking. Next thing I knew I was running after them. I was just leaving the clearing when I felt something grab me and drag me back. That's all I remember. There must have been someone else here, but then why did they leave Hook unharmed?" I rubbed at the back of my head, now aware of the sizeable bump.

"Huh," Mary Margaret looked thoughtful. "And Pan's shadow? Is it still safe?"

A stab of fear stopped my steps. Where was Pan's shadow? Is that what my attacker was after?

"It's here," David called, picking up the coconut I'd set just below Tinkerbell's ladder. He smiled before handing the makeshift cage to me.

"Well, that's a relief," I exclaimed, though my mind was already dissecting the fact that everything seemed to be fine, yet an unsettling feeling still clung to me.

"Have you got everything?" Mary Margaret asked. "We should probably get to the ship. The others will be there soon and we don't want to stay here any longer than necessary."

"Right," I responded. "A little help, David?" The two of us hefted Hook to his feet before David resumed the fireman's carry that Neal had used to get him to the clearing. I silently mused that Hook would _not_ be pleased to discover my ex _and_ my father had both manhandled him without his knowing.

I reached over and reclaimed his coat as well as my own bag then took one last look around Tinkerbell's hollow before the three of us set off to reunite with the rest of our group aboard the Jolly Roger. This was it; we were finally going home. I waited for a sense of relief to calm my nerves, but something was still wrong; I could feel it nagging at me. Mary Margaret and David were entirely distracted by the prospect of leaving otherwise I was fairly sure they would've been more suspicious about my apparent attack, too. How strange that there were no other footprints, only the impression of me being dragged. As if someone had not wanted me to leave that clearing.

It was then that Gold's warning flitted through my thoughts. _"Don't be racing off without your charge,"_ he'd said. My stare settled once more on Hook, in the same position he'd been in hours before, just a different shoulder. The grimace remained as did the shallow breathing I'd observed when Mary Margaret had washed his face. Whatever I'd done to him in the Dark Hallow seemed to be wearing off. We were running out of time, and I knew a particular 'Dark One' who owed me some answers.

* * *

><p>AN: A little shorter this time, but it served its purpose. Next up, the group reunites aboard the Jolly Roger and Emma gets her answers. Our darling Hook will be with us soon! Please Review :)


	3. Broken Spell

**Chapter 3**

**Broken Spell**

"Mom!" I barely had time to register the exclamation before Henry barreled into my arms, causing me to drop to my knees in the warm sand.

"Hey Kid, I missed you," I said as I kissed the side of his head. I offered a tight smile to the three people standing behind him, their rescue efforts and my failure left unsaid. "Thanks." With the slightest nod of his head, Neal turned to gaze out over the ocean, the look on his face somewhat indiscernible, but definitely cautious.

My arms tightened around Henry as I snuggled my face into the crook of his neck. "You had me worried," I whispered to him.

"Tell me about it," he laughed, his perpetual upbeat nature still fairly intact despite his most recent adventure. "I can't believe we're in Neverland!"

"Yes, well only for a little while longer. Wouldn't want to wear out our welcome," Gold commented dryly as he interrupted us. "Miss Swan, forgive me for rushing your reunion, but if I may say so, our unfortunate Captain is not looking his best. Perhaps it's time to board?" With a wave of his hand, the Jolly Roger shimmered into recognition, the cloaking spell Gold had renewed once we docked melting away.

"Wow!" Henry exclaimed. I'd forgotten that he'd never really had the chance to see the ship, what with Greg and Tamara kidnapping him. As he slipped from my embrace to join Regina and Neal, I stood slowly to face Gold.

"You owe me some answers."

"I owe you nothing, Miss Swan. Remember who you are speaking to."

I ignored his attempt at playing _Let's Make a Deal_ and honed in on his far too gleeful expression. "You know what's going on between us," I looked to Hook still slumped over David's shoulder. "You warned me not to leave his side."

"And yet you did just that, didn't you, Dearie?" His head cocked to the side as if appraising me.

I thought back to the clearing, to the yanking sensation which had literally pulled me back from trying to leave Hook's vicinity. I opened my mouth to speak, but was stopped by Gold's hand.

"Not now, Dearie. I am quite certain this conversation is better suited for our ears alone."

With a long hard stare, I stepped away from Gold to follow the others aboard the deck. "Where should I put him?" David inquired, his voice starting to belie his exhaustion.

"Um, I guess in his cabin?" I looked around, spotting the door which led below deck. "Gold's going to take a look at him and see if we can figure out what's wrong." I improvised, letting my eyes indicate to the sorcerer that he'd better comply. Turning back to Henry, I let my face fill with lightness. "Hey, I need to you stay up here with the others. Hook's pretty sick and until we can make him better, we'll have a tough time getting out of here."

"I do know how to steer the ship, Em," Neal chimed in, a hint of annoyance in his words.

"It doesn't matter," Regina started, "It's an enchanted ship and will only answer to its captain. You could steer the ship once we've left port, but until then, we're not going anywhere. Unless he dies, of course."

"That's not going to happen," I spoke through clenched teeth. She shrugged, once again oblivious to her callous words.

"Tick tock, time's a wasting." Gold directed David to carry Hook below deck. I hesitated, feeling like I needed to say something more to Neal, but unsure of what. He was refusing to meet my eyes, and I wondered what Regina and Gold had been telling him while we were parted. Not to mention what he was thinking on his own after the events of the Dark Hollow.

"Neal," I began, and he glanced at me in reaction. Whatever parting words I planned were forgotten as the yanking sensation on my shoulders returned. This time, just a gentle tug, but enough to force me to step backwards. I shook my head in silent apology and turned to follow after Gold and David.

I'd been in Hook's quarters once before to help him gather some maps, so there was no grand revelation. Aside from a table and chair, a sidebar covered with charts, scrolls and empty bottles, and the obvious bed – albeit a bit grander than the crew's quarters – the room was fairly Spartan. The sole luxury seemed to be the leaded glass window spanning nearly half of the wall across from the bed. The first time I'd paid little attention to it, but upon second glance I couldn't help imagining the view at night with the stars glittering over the surface of dark waters.

"Lay him here," Gold commanded, directing David to deposit Hook across his bed while he produced an assortment of vials from thin air.

"What are those for?" I asked nervously, suddenly very aware of who it was I'd let into Hook's personal space.

"Well, Dearie, am I to save him or not?" He turned his gaze on David, "That will be all, Your Majesty, I do believe the fewer present, the better."

David started for the door before seeming to realize that I wasn't following him. "Emma?"

"Yeah, I don't think we should leave him alone with Hook. History and all?" I mumbled.

"Fine. Then I'll stay and make sure he doesn't cause any further harm. Why don't you return above deck with Snow," his eyes moved from me and trained on Gold's face.

"Because she's the one with magic, no offense. And before you try to suggest sending our lovely queen to help, I'll save you the trouble. This particular healing will require the assistance of magic that actually _likes_ the person in question, not to mention, I highly doubt Miss Swan counts Regina as an improvement to me."

"He's right," I acknowledged before stepping over to David. "I'll be fine; don't worry. We'll fix Hook and then we can all get out of here."

Speaking softly, he replied, "We're just above deck. Yell and we'll hear you." I lifted my lips in the resemblance of smile and nodded.

As soon as he left, I spun quickly to face Gold. "Okay, we're alone. Now tell me what the hell is going on? What's with the potions?"

With another wave of his hand, the bottles vanished. "Just an illusion meant as a false trail for Prince Charming. Can't have him know what really needs to be done. Not just yet."

"Oh? And how about me? Can you let me in on the secret yet?"

He stepped nearer to Hook and that same stab of fear I'd felt in the clearing when Regina had gotten too close sprung back into my chest. Naturally, Gold seemed to notice. "What's the matter, Dearie? Feeling…_protective_ again?" I chose not to respond, but that didn't keep me from stepping between him and Hook. "Take his hand, Miss Swan. Tell me what you feel."

I sat down on the edge of the bed assessing Hook's appearance. His condition had been progressively declining since we'd left the clearing. It was obvious he would not pull through this on his own merit. I picked up his hand and cradled it gently in my palm. A low humming vibrated where our skin touched. "It feels like a weak current, or something."

"Now let his hand go," Gold urged far too eagerly.

I tried to drop his hand, but was met with some sort of resistance, like peeling apart two pancakes covered in syrup, only completely dry. Standing quickly, my breath catching, the pieces started shoving themselves together in my brain. "What would happen if I tried to leave this cabin?" I asked, stepping away from the bed.

"Nothing. That is, unless you tried to keep going." Gold was calm. Too calm.

"So that's it, then. I wasn't attacked earlier, he _pulled_ me back?"

"Look at the man, Dearie, I don't think he's capable of lifting his fearsome hook let alone leap to his feet to yank you back. No, it's something much more _magical_ than that."

"We don't have time for this. You know something, just tell me! At the clearing, you mentioned he wasn't cursed. You said he was partly dead?"

"Half alive, actually. Not even close to the same thing as partly dead. Tell me, what exactly did you do in that hollow? Now is the time for you to be completely truthful."

"I gave him CPR, you know, it's a means of artificially supporting someone's respiration and circulation until help can arrive."

"You did more than that. You both_ reek_ of white magic," he accused.

"My hands started to glow. I have no idea what I did!" I started pacing the cabin as acidic anxiety started pooling in my veins.

"Very interesting, indeed." He paused, appearing to be in deep thought, though I suspected it was more for show. "You apparently bound the unsuspecting pirate to you. That's why you couldn't leave the clearing. When the shadows tried to detach his aura, they partially succeeded. He would have died, had you not intervened. He may still."

"Then DO something," I exclaimed, my pulse starting to race once more.

"It's not in my power, but it is in yours. You started this, you must finish it."

I nearly growled. "Tell me what to do, Gold. So help me…"

"He is partially bound to you, meaning he is sharing your life force. In order to heal him and awaken him, you will have to fully bind him to you. That is the only way that his aura will stay within his body. Are you willing to make that commitment?"

I looked back and forth between Hook and Gold several times. "What does it mean, exactly?"

"Think of it as a marriage of the souls. I've never actually seen it done before, but as I understand it, you may experience each other's feelings and you'll have a strong desire to stay close to each other."

My eyes narrowed. "How close? I can barely walk thirty feet away from him now."

"It will be different." He paused, perhaps searching for an explanation. "As it is now, he is entirely dependent upon your life force. Leaving his side is like disconnecting his battery. You need to give him a permanent boost. You'll still feel…_attracted _to one another, but you should be able to lead fairly normal lives."

"_Should_?" I questioned. He shrugged inelegantly. He had already said he'd never actually seen it done. "So it's a theory…" My voice trailed off.

I stared at Hook, no _Killian_, for this he would be Killian, and thought about my future being tied to his. Could I live with it? Would he even want it, for that matter? He was a pirate, a wanderer, how would he feel knowing he was magically bound to someone? But I couldn't just let him go. He had risked everything to help us find Henry simply because I asked him to. None of this was his fault, and I knew I owed it to him to save him if I could. And I _did_ care for him. I may not have ever gotten around to admitting it to anyone, or maybe I would have, but I did.

Gold's voice interrupted just as I made my decision. "And one other thing; if one of you dies, so will the other. That's the way of shared life forces."

_I don't want to live without him_. A voice mourned in my thoughts.

I turned to face him – the Dark One – and let him see the certainty in my mind. "I'll do it."

An odd grin appeared on his face. "You will need to fill his being with the same white magic you used before, and hold it there until you feel it spill back into you."

I moved to place my hands on his chest as I had in the clearing, but the clicking sound of Gold's disapproval stopped me. "What?"

"It has to flow through both of you, Dearie. Something more…_intimate_…is required."

"No way in hell, Gold."

"A kiss, Miss Swan. Isn't that always the way of true love? And you'll have to mean it. There's no going back."

True love. Would Killian have turned out to be my true love if we'd had the chance to let things develop naturally? Or was I robbing him of that, too? Tracing my fingertips across his brow I whispered, "Please forgive me."

I dragged every happy memory I'd ever formed about this man to the front of my mind and let them pool into the core part of me where my magical energy – the little that I'd experienced –always seemed to form. I thought about when he first introduced himself, and how pleased he was that I'd heard of him. About our long climb on the beanstalk when he'd first tried to get me to open up, followed by the flash of heat he'd unexpectedly fanned when he bandaged my hand with his teeth. Even his innuendos at Lake Nostos had a place in our happy memories; his flirtations seemingly spoke to something inside of me. But most of our happy moments were here in Neverland, where he continued to prove to me that he was on our side. As I pictured our only kiss, and then his whispered confession in the Echo Cave, I bent my head and pressed my lips firmly to his, willing whatever power I possessed to flow into him.

As it had happened in the Dark Hollow, a white light glowed from where we touched, this time accompanied by a burst of heat. I hated that Gold was witnessing this, but I fought to keep my focus on Killian. I could feel the light seep into him, filling some kind of hole. His heartbeat strengthened, pounding against my own where our chests were aligned. Then, suddenly, his lips moved and he was kissing me back. The warmth from my magic seemed to pour from his kiss into me, sending the current I'd felt earlier back through my entire body. We gasped simultaneously as the low thrumming begin to burn before concentrating in my heart. I could only liken it to the sting of a tattoo needle and from the tension in his frame I suspected he felt it as well.

Almost as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. My heart felt almost too full, as though weighed by an invisible anchor, yet it was strangely comforting. I lay panting half across his body, my lips still inches from his. _Mine_, that voice whispered again. His incredible blue eyes opened slowly before his mouth curved into my favorite smile. "Hello, love."

* * *

><p>AN: He's awake! Thank you to all who have been reading and reviewing. I find Emma to be a bit more challenging to write than other heroines because I imagine her to be somewhat closed off even in her own mind. She says she doesn't trust others, but I don't think she trusts herself, either.

At any rate, I'm excited to have Killian back with us to heat things up. Please review :)


	4. Hard Departures

**A/N: **A heartfelt thank you to those of you sticking with this story. :) I appreciate each and every review, alert, and favorite. To those who've asked, I am definitely a HEA kind of writer. Their road will not be all rainbows and unicorns, but I endeavor to make it honest and real. But for now, Killian is awake, and the crew is ready to get the truck out of Neverland. Hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 4**

**Hard Departures**

"You're awake," I stated dumbly. Killian's eyes crinkled as his smiled widened.

"Don't let that stop you, love," he breathed before pulling my face back down to his. I felt his fingers tangle in the hair at the base of my head and his hook trace down my spine, coming to rest on my hip. His lips plundered – there was no other word for it – while he pressed down on my hip to bring our lower halves more snugly together. Someone was apparently _very_ happy to see me.

With a bit of effort, I pulled my head back, "Wait, stop…we're not –" I protested, distantly remembering our audience and that he had been practically dead only a moment before. Either he didn't hear me, or he didn't care, because next thing I knew, he'd flipped us so that I was now below the length of his long, toned body. Grinding his hips into mine, I was finding it harder and harder to care about anything else, no pun intended, especially with the way his teeth were nipping at my lower lip.

"I'd call this quite the success, wouldn't you, Dearie?"

The sound of Gold's voice was more effective than a bucket of ice water. Killian's entire frame tightened and the blue of his eyes darkened as his awareness returned.

"-alone," I finished saying.

Killian pushed away from me to stand. I was pleasantly surprised to notice the strange peeling sensation was missing as he broke physical contact, though the anchor in my heart tugged. He swung his gaze back to me at the exact moment I'd felt it and his hand lifted to his own heart.

I sat up and fixed a gentle expression on my face, trying to calm him even before I knew what reaction he would take. "How do you feel?" I inquired softly.

He looked between me and Gold – who was far, far too pleased with himself – before stepping across to the sidebar and finding the one bottle which still contained an amount of dark liquid. After a particularly large swig, he recapped the bottle and turned to face us, his eyes still a bit too wide. "Tell me," he ordered, though his tone was resigned.

My gaze flicked to Gold who was apparently doing his very best impersonation of a grinning statute. "Can you give us some privacy?" I hinted. His eyes narrowed. "Please?"

"Very well. I'll just share the happy news with our crew that their Captain is returned, shall I?" Gold sauntered out the door, shutting it tightly behind him.

The silence in the cabin was heavy as fog. I imagined the ticking sound of a time bomb, but I had no idea how many seconds were left in the countdown. After mentally noting a full minute, I peeked over to Killian.

"_Bloody_ hell, Swan; please explain to me what in the blazes the Crocodile was doing in my quarters, watching us while we – "

"While we what, exactly?" I quirked my eyebrow. His anger rolled over my skin in a tangible way, raising my own indignation.

His hand ruffled through his already rumpled hair as he expelled a loud breath. I stood and moved to face him, crossing my arms defensively. "I can imagine you have a lot of questions, and I promise we'll sort this all out. But we're still in a bit of a time crunch. In short, you nearly died in the Dark Hollow. Gold helped me revive you. Everyone's up on deck, including Henry, and soon we'll use Pan's shadow to get us all the hell home."

The shame coursing through me as I omitted more than a little bit of information nearly chocked me. I didn't even know until I started talking that I wasn't ready to give him the full truth of what I'd done. Perhaps I was just as cowardly as Rumpelstiltskin used to be, but old fears are hard to get rid of. As I stared into Killian Jones' impossible eyes, my heart _literally_ beating with his, I had never been so terrified in my life, not even when I thought he was dead.

"I'm going to need a lot more details than that, princess."

_Princess_. My chest pinched unexpectedly at his reversal to using that pet name. It was false, a wall, and I hated that he was hiding behind it. I swallowed before letting him see a bit behind my own wall, even if I wasn't ready to talk about it. "I know."

His eyes softened and I felt some of the tension drain from his body. Lifting his hand, he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and smiled. It was his sweet smile; the one I'd only ever seen him direct toward me. "You revived me, eh love? Is there something you want to tell me?"

I stared at him, unblinking. There were a great many things I _should_ tell him. But something I particularly wanted to tell him? "I'm glad you're alive." I smiled.

His smile curved into his infamous smirk; the one he'd carefully honed over centuries as an attack on the female gender, no matter what realm they called home. "Glad, are you? Is that how you woke me? With your…_glad-ness_?" I tracked the way his tongue punctuated each syllable of the word against his gleaming teeth. A renewed surge of heat burned under my skin, and I knew it had nothing to do with magic this time. Or maybe it did. Gold did say we'd experience each other's feelings. I mentally cringed. _This is going to be exceedingly complicated._

"Look, Killian…" I started to say, but was distracted by the way his eyes rose. Oh right, I'd used his actual name. I cleared my suddenly dry throat. "Um…things are kind of complicated at the moment. I _am_ very happy that you're alright. And we do have more to talk about. But all I can really handle right now is getting my son and my family back home safely. I am so thankful for all your help, and it would be pretty silly for me to deny at this point that I have feelings for you. I just," I sighed, "…can that be enough…for now?"

He used his hook to lift one of my hands and turn it palm side up. His fingers traced looping circles over the flesh as his eyes locked with mine, gauging my reaction. "Something must have happened indeed for you to suddenly be so receptive to my touch. I've no idea how long I slumbered, but I thought it was the most wonderful dream when I awoke to your attentions. I know you're scared, love. And while you've always been an open book, I can tell this is something more. But you need not fear me. I won't push you."

"Thank you," I whispered, moving to pull my hand back in a way that I hoped he wouldn't take offense to. It was too much. His eyes, his words, his touch...I needed to escape.

"But Emma," he cautioned, "I don't share well." My brow raised again in question. "You haven't admitted to anything, and I won't ask you to; however, I woke with the strangest feeling that," he paused and shook his head, before finishing in a whisper, "…that you're mine." He stared at me, a sweet sort of shyness reflecting in his sapphire orbs. "If I'm wrong, then I beg you to leave me with my delusions for as long as possible," he grinned. "But, if I'm right, then please be considerate with your…_affections_."

Neal. He was still worried about Neal. The question I had been ignoring in my own conscience was whether or not he should be. I considered his words for a moment, thinking that part of me had also claimed Killian as mine during our bonding. _Could_ Neal even _be_ a factor anymore?

"Okay," I whispered.

I was hit again with a surge of shame, or was it embarrassment? The problem was, I couldn't tell if it was my emotion or his. With my hand on the door knob, I spoke to the floor, "We'll need your help to get the Jolly Roger into the open seas before using Pan's shadow. When you feel up to it, please join us on deck."

"I shall be along momentarily," he replied, his voice returning to the purely business-like tones I recognized he used when he was hiding his true feelings. I wondered how he would take it when he found out his façade would no longer work on me. No matter what tone or expression he used as a mask, our connection would always be truthful.

_But according to Gold, the same can be said about him feeling your truths, too. _

I donned my own mask – stubborn denial – and slipped from his cabin. I was almost able to ignore the tug on my heart. Almost.

**E&K&E&K&E&K**

The scene on deck was perhaps the very antithesis of what one would expect of a pirate ship. Henry was curled up on a blanket, listening to something Mary Margaret was telling him while she let her fingers gently caress his hair. Regina stood watch nearby, speaking to no one. I wondered if she was aware of the naked envy in her eyes as she watched the pair of them. David and Neal were engrossed in conversation by the top rail, and Gold was…nowhere in sight.

"Where's Gold?" I asked Mary Margaret as I approached the blanket.

"Emma!" she exclaimed. "Is Hook alright?" Her eyes switched from concerned to interested as she peered over my shoulder.

"Right as rain, milady, and I thank you for the concern."

My heart literally skipped a beat at the sound of his voice. Oh this was bad. I closed my eyes, but I could still measure his nearness in my mind. With each soft thud of his boots, the swell of recognition in my chest threatened to spill over.

Mary Margaret quickly stood and began assessing Killian's condition for herself. I was nearly bowled over by the jealous stab I felt while watching her run her hands over his chest, then placing her palm over his forehead. To think she could touch him so easily, with no more thought than if she were doting on Henry, was maddening.

I caught Killian winking at me, the corner of his mouth lifting in a crooked grin. I scowled in return. "Didn't Gold tell you he was alright?"

Mary Margaret smiled, clearly satisfied that our Captain was in one piece. "Well, yes, but seeing _is_ believing after all."

I shook my head at the irony of a fairy tale character making that statement. "So where is he? We've got everything we need; shouldn't we get going?"

By this point, our little assembly had grown to include all of our crew save the Dark One. Neal glared at Killian, but chose to hold his opinion, answering me instead, "He's gone to get some Dreamshade; said he'll need it for David's cure."

"And you thought that was a _good_ idea?" I retorted, disbelieving that Rumpelstiltskin had any _positive_ intentions for gathering a known poison.

"In this, we'll have to trust him," David said as he reached over to shake Killian's hand with the barest hint of a smile. "Glad to have you back."

"Thanks, mate. Are we ready to set sail once everyone is returned?" His gaze swept over the deck of his beloved ship. "It's nearly nightfall; we'll need to leave soon if we intend to go tonight."

"Just about. We've got Pan's shadow over here, but I'm still not clear on how you plan to control it," David's voice grew fainter as he led Killian toward the main sail, Henry lagging behind them. That strange weight in my chest pulsed with each step that took Killian further from me, but it was not nearly as noticeable as it had been while he was still unconscious.

"So you've decided, then," Neal spoke quietly. I'd momentarily forgotten that he was there. Turning toward him, I opened my mouth, but couldn't find what to say. Logically, I knew I didn't really have a choice anymore; how could I be bound to one man but make a life with another? Maybe, before the Dark Hollow, there was still a chance that my heart would have decided on Neal, but even then I was torn between them. Now, I wasn't sure if I'd ever know what the natural outcome would've been.

"It's complicated," I said, repeating the words I'd used with Killian.

He was quiet for a long moment, looking around at the rest of our group. Looking anywhere but at me. "You told me you loved me."

My heart clenched. I was pretty sure it was a genuine emotion, but I could see Killian watching us intently out of the corner of my eye. There was no way he could hear us, was there? I took a deep, steadying breath before responding. I hadn't expected this conversation to come so quickly. "I do love you Neal, but not in the way you want me to. You're the father of my child, my first love, and when I thought I'd lost you again, it was one of the worst moments of my life. I will always love you, but I'm not _in love_ with you."

"So you're in love with Hook?" His eyes darkened. I'd seen that expression enough times in our past to know it was hurt, not anger that caused the change. "I saw you at the Dark Hollow when you thought he died. I saw your magic. What was that, Em?"

"I don't know. I don't know what I feel for him."

He scoffed. "But you're choosing him."

"I'm giving it a chance. I'm choosing me. And Henry." I looked over at my son, who was peering through Killian's spyglass at things the pirate pointed out along the shoreline. As if he could feel my eyes on him, the pirate in question suddenly met my gaze and a misplaced jolt of jealousy rioted through me. _His emotion_, I realized, noting that Neal had sidled closer to me. The feeling spiked dramatically when Neal picked up my hand. I yanked it back as if he were burning me. The hurt in Neal's eyes deepened. "I'm sorry," I gasped. "I never meant for any of this to happen. I don't want to hurt anyone."

"Then don't say never, Em. You don't have to make me any promises, but don't completely give up on us. I won't." He walked away before I could respond.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Mary Margaret took Neal's place, picking innocuously at my mood. Her question was one a friend or a mother would ask, and as she had played both roles in my life, I wasn't sure which one she was offering me at the moment. I didn't really want to talk to either. I was done talking for the day.

"It's complicated," I said once more. My apparent comment of the day.

"Are you alright?" She tried again, this time clearly in mother-mode.

I smiled at her, reminding myself that she would have been there all twenty-eight years of my life making sure I was _always_ alright if she could've been. "I will be."

"He's back! He's got Tinkerbell with him," Henry suddenly shouted, the spyglass firmly attached to his right eye as he pointed to the approaching figures of Gold and a much more petite person.

I moved to Henry's side, which just so happened to put me only a few feet from Killian. So near, yet so far. I shouldn't have been able to detect his scent – ocean air, leather, rum, and something spicy that was uniquely him – but I could. I had an overwhelming urge to reach over and grab his hand, craving a connection. My pulse rate jumped and my breaths turned to small pants. What the hell was wrong with me? Fear warred with whatever else my body was making me feel.

He had to sense what I was feeling. It felt like I was projecting my reaction with all the subtlety of a bullhorn, but Henry - who was directly beside me - continued his watch oblivious to my presence. My panic increased. This was going to drive me insane! The abrupt brush of leather over my bare arms caused me to jerk my head to the side. Intense blue eyes blazing with what could only be the same fire I was experiencing met my green gaze. "Easy, love," he whispered. Taking my hand, he positioned us so that we appeared to be looking out over the water in the direction Gold and the fairy were advancing, hiding our clasped palms from the rest of the group. His calloused flesh – roughened from years of handling sail lines and swords– felt like a soothing balm to my skin. The building anxiety expelled as swiftly and gently as a summer breeze.

Neither of us spoke as our breaths slowed to a normal rate. The comforting thrum of magical current vibrated between our palms. Whatever it was that responded so desperately a moment before was temporarily appeased. I should have been relieved, but the enormity of what that reaction might mean only heightened my anxiety.

"Something tells me there is actually _quite a lot_ you've yet to tell me, love." He lifted an eyebrow in my direction.

"Yeah," I admitted. "But it will have to wait."

"Shall I expect a repeat of whatever this was?" He asked, letting his thumb stroke over the back of my hand.

"I don't know. Probably?" I shrugged.

"If you two are quite finished standing around, I think it's time we attached the shadow to the sail." Regina's voice cut through our momentary respite, causing me to jerk my hand away from Killian's. I moved away from him quickly, nervous that lingering in his presence would reignite whatever it was that caused me to react the first time.

He shook his head slightly before following the queen to the main sail. Across the deck, I caught Neal watching me with that same narrowed look as before. He straightened as if he planned to approach me, but I was saved by the arrival of his father. Gold attempted to engage him in conversation, but his gaze remained fixed on me.

"Can they really make the Jolly Roger fly?" Henry interrupted.

I looked at him, _really_ looked at him. His face brimmed with excitement, radiating his pure goodness. He'd been through hell over the past week, but you'd almost never tell by looking at him. Only the traces of fatigue around his eyes gave away the ordeal. Catching both Killian and Neal watching us, I pledged that whatever happened once we returned to Storybrooke, and whatever strange connection I'd forged with Captain Hook of all people, I would do my very best to never cause that inherent joy to leave my son's spirit. I smiled as I brushed my fingers through his hair. "What's the matter Kid, don't you believe in magic?"

He grinned, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "That's only for fairy tales."

My smile widened to match his. "Then I guess it's a good thing we're in one." Silently, we looked on at the menagerie of living characters working to unfurl the large sail and attach Peter Pan's shadow to the enormous canvas. Our newest edition, the legendary Tinkerbell, hurried to sprinkle pixie dust around the deck like a fantastical version of a flower girl.

"Miss Swan, a little help please?" Regina called.

Smiling at Henry once more, I said, "Come on, Kid. Let's go home."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I admit, I'm not used to working with such a large cast of characters, lol. I'm looking forward to the group returning to Storybrooke so I can pair down the ensemble. Reviews are loved and appreciated!


	5. Moonlit Confessions

**A/N**: I had fun with this chapter as it was much more entrenched in my comfort zone - I love writing about 'feels' and UST. :D This one's all Captain Swan. Enjoy!

**Chapter 5**

**Moonlit Confessions**

I startled to consciousness with a gasp. Bolting upright, I anxiously surveyed my dark surroundings before remembering I was – against all logic – currently flying through the night sky in a pirate ship. The ink black of the sky was broken by thousands of twinkling stars, telling me it was still probably hours before dawn. Beside me, Henry lay tucked against Mary Margaret's side, the rise and fall of his chest indicating he was sound asleep. I tried to identify what had awoken me, but whatever I'd been dreaming about was now as distant as Neverland.

I carefully crept away and stood, my back cracking as I stretched. We'd left Neverland almost immediately as the sun slipped behind the horizon, sailing out toward the second star to the left. I'd stayed awake long enough to watch that cursed island disappear beyond the gathering clouds before succumbing to my exhaustion. Looking around, it appeared everyone else in our group was now either below deck or sleeping, save one. A lone figure helmed the massive wheel at the bridge. My pulse sped wildly without any other stimulus and that strange pull urged me to go to him.

I could've fought it; it wasn't that strong…yet. But I didn't want to. For once, it was easier just to give in. I approached him as cautiously as if he really were the dangerous blackguard Pirate King of lore. By now, I knew he would never hurt me intentionally, but he currently held more power over me than just about anyone else alive.

The closer I got, the more fervently that connection in my chest responded. I was beginning to recognize the pattern; when we were apart, there was a subtle pull toward him. It increased the longer I stayed away, but was otherwise fairly manageable. During those periods if we got near each other the desperate craving kicked in with the same strength as two powerful magnets being held inches apart, nearly vibrating in their desire to be one. Once a connection was made – a touch of his hand on my arm, or a brush of his fingers over my cheek – it seemed to reset and start all over again. The touches had been few and far between and always in secret. He seemed to sense when I needed his nearness, or maybe he was just as affected as I was, but he'd been patient and hadn't pressured me for an explanation.

I'd been asleep for quite some time and the need to be near him was intensifying more quickly than usual_. Screw standing on ceremony_, I thought as I reached his side. Without a word, I shamelessly wrapped my hands around his left arm just above the leather sheath where he held his hook, instantly calmed by our renewed connection. He peeked down at me through sinful lashes. "Bad dream?"

"Couldn't sleep," I lied. His lips twisted; he could tell I was lying, but he chose to let it go. "How much longer?"

"Straight on till morning, love. Based on the position of the moon, I'd say another couple hours at most."

It was strange to be the only ones awake, or at least awake on deck. There was a simple intimacy in experiencing the early hours of a new day when the rest of the world was oblivious. Our conversation – as simple as it was – was heavy with things unsaid. I knew it wouldn't last, but I was hesitant to break the fragility of the moment.

"I'm afraid you'll hate me," I finally whispered. To anyone else it would've seemed like a complete non-sequitur, but he'd been waiting for this opening all evening.

"I'm not sure that's entirely possible at this point, love. But if it will help you sleep, perhaps its best to get the whole nasty truth out," he offered.

"I thought you were dead…in the hollow. I watched the shadow nearly rip out your soul." I murmured, fighting to control my trembling voice and the tears threatening my eyes.

He adjusted his position to pull me between his body and the large wheel, aligning his chest with my back and wrapping his hooked arm across my abdomen. "I remember. It was excruciating, but more, I was terrified that I'd failed you," he breathed into my ear, his arm tightening where he held me. "You saved _me_, love, when I was supposed to be protecting _you_."

"I…I used magic. I didn't mean to. I was doing CPR – um, it's a technique from my world that keeps the heart beating – and this glow just sort of happened."

He listened without comment as I explained what unfolded in the Dark Hollow. Through our connection, all I felt was calm acceptance. Either he was a master at containing his feelings, or he truly wasn't mad, just as he said he wouldn't be.

"We're bound, aren't we, love?" He interrupted before I even got to the part about running off from him in the clearing.

"How do you know?" I turned to look back at his face.

He gently moved my hair behind my ear before placing a tender kiss on my temple. My body literally thrummed with contentment and pleasure at the simple gesture. "I remember bits and pieces of a conversation between you and Rumpelstiltskin. It's been coming to me all day. I suspect part of your memory transferred when you completed the binding."

"And you're not furious with me? I took away your choices, I've tied you to me for the rest of your life, no, _our_ lives. When one of us dies, so does the other!" My voice strangled as I choked back a cry.

He spun me around to face him, waiting for me to meet his eyes before continuing. "And what if that _was_ my choice, my _wish_ all along?"

My confusion must have shown, because he smoothed the skin around my eyes with his thumb before smiling softly, shyly at me. "My dear Emma, I'd already confessed that I was falling in love with you. After three hundred years devoted to seeking vengeance in the name of love, surely you're not surprised that I would be accepting of this?"

"But that's just it, Killian. You've been a slave to your vengeance for centuries. I hate the thought of..._imprisoning_ you once more."

His mouth curved into a devilish grin. "My darling, I would happily succumb to your bondage. I seem to recall you in possession of a pair of serviceable handcuffs."

I frowned, annoyed at the blush creeping over my cheeks. "Be serious," I hissed.

"Oh I am, love, I am." He pulled me tight to him, letting me feel the curve of his hook as he stroked down my back. "You're looking at this through your own insecurities." I twisted in his embrace, but he simply tightened his grip. "Emma, listen to me. Whether you ever admit to loving me or not, you've shown me through your actions that you care enough about me to want to keep me. Bloody hell, woman you gave me part of your very life!" He paused to capture my eyes. The honesty shining in his gaze was palpable. "You have absolutely _no idea_ what that means to me." His words sounded strained as they trailed off.

An ache of loneliness permeated my soul. I'd felt it many times in my life, but this time it was his pain, not mine. They were so incredibly similar, and I wondered when it was that he'd felt cast-off and unwanted. Slowing breaking eye contact, I wrapped my arms around his back and laid my cheek over his heartbeat, listening to the steady rhythm and pondering how it was that he trusted me so implicitly. He continued his gentle passes up and down my spine in silence, pressing another kiss to my hair.

"Who would ever believe Captain Hook had such a soft side," I commented, feeling the need to break the levity of our moment.

His lips curved against my head. "Shall I demonstrate how very _no_t soft I can be?" The hard metal of his hook dipped lower to the top of my backside.

His tone was flirtatious, and I appreciated how quickly he responded to my change of conversation, but through our unique link I felt a flash of disappointment. He would give me my space, just as he promised, but I _was_ hurting him whether he admitted it or not.

Untangling my arms was a challenge given how satisfied my heart felt in that moment, but I remembered now why I'd been fighting it. It wasn't Killian that was going to hurt me; it was _me_ that had the power to crush _him_. In my heart were all the stirrings associated with being in love, but my head wasn't as convinced. Before the binding, I'd been unsure of my feelings; how could I trust that I wasn't somehow being manipulated by our magical connection into _imagining_ myself completely in love with him?

I didn't need to listen to our connection to read the touch of sadness in his features as I stepped away. "I just need time. Please," I begged him with my eyes.

He reached to rub over the earring in his right ear as he nodded, his eyes directed to the deck below our feet. "So what is your grand plan for once we return to your Storybrooke?" He asked, that direct, monotone quality to his voice once more.

What _was_ my plan? Everything had been happening so fast that my usual tendency to compartmentalize things until I had to sort them out would not continue to work. We had a matter of hours before docking and while I wasn't ready to fall into a full-fledged relationship with Killian – bond or no bond – I couldn't very well be apart from him either.

"I hadn't really thought about it yet," I confessed. "It's pretty crowded at the apartment…"

"I get the hint, lass. I'm quite used to my quarters here." His _'you don't want me'_ was unsaid but heavily implied.

"That's not what I meant," I snapped, using irritation to mask my guilt. "It's just that I didn't think you'd be all that comfortable sharing a two-bedroom apartment with a married couple and an eleven year old. I know we'll need to stay close. I'm _not_ pushing you away, I'm just asking for some time. Dammit Hook!"

"Hook again, am I?" He wrapped the mentioned appendage around my arm and gently tugged me forward. "You're not getting rid of me, love. Emma. I'm yours. But I'll admit, I'm not entirely sure what it is you want from me."

"I want you to stay. That's all I know right now."

"Then that's what I shall do. You know, there is plenty of room on the Jolly. Your boy is welcome, as well. The crew's quarters are quite _far_ from the Captain's." He raised his eyebrow in that way of his.

"We'll see," I replied, fighting a grin at his sudden reversion to the playful rogue. The tension of our conversation was being replaced by the simmering tension of a different kind. But this is what we did. This was familiar to me, and much less terrifying.

Slowly, as if to pacify my tendency to flee, he stepped closer to me until our bodies were flush once more. "Have I ever told you how incredibly beautiful you look in the moonlight?" He whispered in my ear.

"Killian," I murmured just before he turned to capture my lips in his. This was different than our other two encounters. This was tender and full of spoken and unspoken feelings. His lips caressed mine with the expertise of a man well versed in romantic affairs. When I felt the wet, hot trail of his tongue along my bottom lip, I opened to meet him. A moan loosened from my throat as his tongue did wicked things to my own and I had no choice but to clutch helplessly to his shoulders. The faint taste of rum and him was enough to intoxicate me and soon our tender embrace turned decidedly more intense. My fingers lost themselves to his thick dark hair just as the iron strength of his arm crushed me against his chest. I could feel his heartbeat pounding in tandem to my own, and whatever it was that bound us together radiated with pleasure.

I pulled my face away reluctantly to gasp in air for my starving lungs and noticed a soft white haze shining around Killian's face. At the widening of his eyes, I highly suspected the same could be said of me. He reached up to trace my cheek with his fingers as tenderly as if I were made of glass. "Magic, indeed," he whispered.

We stood there, lost in our thoughts, feeling with every heartbeat what he'd already admitted and I was reluctant to accept. Did I love Killian Jones? This contradiction of a man wrapped in a sinful package? He told me once he would win my heart; did I ever really stand a chance once he had decided on me?

"Mom?" Henry's sleepy voice sounded much nearer than where I'd left him. The dull sound of his footfalls leading up to the bridge snapped me out of my stupor and with one more loaded look, I turned away from Killian.

"Hey, it's still early. You should be asleep."

"I had a bad dream," he admitted. His eyes glanced warily at the pirate beyond my shoulder.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked.

"Nah, I can't really remember it. But I don't feel like sleeping anymore." He yawned as he said it. "How much longer?" He spoke to Killian, who'd replaced his vigil at the wheel.

I followed his gaze as he looked out at the night sky. The moon had changed position quite dramatically since I'd first approached him. Had we been talking that long? "Not much longer, lad. Best we start to gather the rest of our crew in preparation for arrival." His eyes strayed to mine, and I knew he understood that our relationship, or whatever was going on between us, was just that: _between us_. "Henry is it? How would you like a lesson in steering a pirate ship?"

"Awesome!" Henry exclaimed as he practically leapt the remaining distance between the stairs and Killian. I shook my head and smiled as our dear Captain began explaining the difference between port and starboard, wondering if he realized that his actions with Henry meant more to me than any amazing – alright _mind-blowing_ – kiss ever could. His face turned decidedly smug as he looked over at me and I silently cursed our link. As if I didn't have enough to worry about.

"I'll just go get the others," I mumbled as I made my way from my two boys.

"You do that, lass," Killian called. "Master Henry and I will steer us home."

Home. And now the fun _would_ really begin, just as he had predicted less than twenty-four hours ago. My how things could change in a day.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

So, we're arriving in Storybrooke. Do you have any Killian/Emma encounters you hope to see? Review or get the hook! (Wait, that's not incentive at all, is it? LOL)


	6. Fighting Fate

**A/N:** I blame the stream of Captain Swan videos I watched before writing this for the direction it took. (That man cannot be real!) This was not exactly in the plan (at least not this early), but it's what poured out of my fingers. This is my first posted 'M' (be warned), though there's quite a bit of angst, too. Be patient with our Emma; she_ is_ making progress. :) Thank you for all the lovely comments! You all make my day!

**Chapter 6**

**Fighting Fate**

The jubilant cheers started before we'd even fully docked. It seemed the entire town had dropped what they were doing to welcome us home. How they knew we were coming was a mystery I'd ponder another time. Aside from Henry – who practically vibrated with his excitement – the rest of our crew was decidedly somber. I imagined it was similar to any group of people who'd shared a dangerous experience. We were ready to return to real life, but our respective real lives would never be completely the same again.

Killian had kept his distance since our moonlit interlude. Our bond was beginning to nag for attention, but with the others around us it would be nearly impossible to get a moment alone, and I was not ready to broadcast our budding relationship to anyone. Neal already knew – at least partly – and Gold of course, but they had also kept to their own business. I didn't expect this calm to last; not with the secret I was keeping, and not with Neal's pledge to keep trying.

"I can't wait to take a long, hot shower and change out of these clothes," Mary Margaret exclaimed as she waved to Leroy and the other dwarves assembled on the shoreline. "What about you, what will you do first?" She looked at me curiously.

"Search out something to eat that doesn't grow on a vine or a tree," I joked, letting myself fall into her easy, no-pressure banter. There was something in her expression - a twinkle of her eyes, or perhaps a heavy sort of wisdom I'd underestimated - that alerted me to the realization she knew there was something I wasn't telling her.

"Hard to port!" Killian directed as the Jolly Roger drifted closer to the dock. David manned the wheel while our Captain adjusted the various riggings and what not. I supposed I'd eventually learn all the nautical terms I could ever possibly want to know, given the likelihood of our joint future. "Swan, be a good lass and hold this," he called to me before tossing a length of rope and lowering the gang plank. He crossed to the dock and motioned for me to pass him the rope. Further down, I noticed Neal mirroring his efforts with an additional tie line.

"Do you need any help?" I asked, a bit dubious that he'd be able to secure a ship of this size with one hand and some rope.

"Do you doubt me, love?" He grinned. His cheeks were slightly red from the cold Maine wind, and his dark brown hair was in total disarray. He looked absolutely incredible and his physical beauty was only enhanced by the joy radiating in his spirit. Killian the sailor was definitely in his element.

"I wouldn't dare, Captain," I mock saluted him and smiled at the wink he rewarded me with. An unfamiliar hope blossomed in my chest, tender and delicate and completely new to me. For once, I decided to let it stay there. I wouldn't poke at it; I'd just give it a chance to grow.

"Hey Mom, Dad wants to take me for ice cream as soon as we get off the ship. Are you coming?" Henry – who'd obviously run across the deck – skidded to a halt beside me.

_Dad? Well _that_ was fast._ "Ice cream? In this weather?" I commented, glancing wryly at the gray clouds and early morning gloom. We followed my parents, Regina, and Tinkerbell over the gang plank and met up with Neal and Gold.

"Well I did survive Neverland, after all." Henry looked at me with his best begging eyes.

I laughed. "That you did. Alright, Kid; you've twisted my arm."

With a shout of accomplishment, he took off down the dock followed closely by everyone except Killian and me. Mary Margaret and David were immediately enveloped in hugs from the dwarves, Granny, Ruby, and just about everyone else in Storybrooke I'd ever spoken with. Regina clung to Henry's hand and seemed surprised to be approached by Archie. Tinkerbell was surrounded by the nuns who knew her when they were all fairies together. Even Gold had his happy reunion; Belle's knuckles were visibly white even at a distance given how hard she was clinging to him. Neal stood close to Henry, his attention vacillating between the crowd and my noticeable hesitance to join them outright.

"What are you waiting for, lass? You're one of the conquering heroes, you should be reveling in the well-wishing along with the rest of them."

"So should you." I turned to face him. "I mean it, Killian. We couldn't have done any of this without you."

"You've already thanked me for that, love."

And so I had. But it didn't seem like enough. That new feeling – that fragile hope trying to take root in my soul – was worried that he would board his ship and leave me if I let him out of my sight.

"I'm not going anywhere, Emma," he whispered. He reached around me to tighten one of the tie lines, brushing his arm against my side. "But I'm not part of that."

"How did you –" I started. His answer came as a slight motion to his heart. _Right. Our connection._ "Well, neither am I, not really." I sighed. How did he always manage to strip me down to my insecurities? That ache of loneliness we'd shared was still very much present in us both. They may be my family, but I still wasn't sure how I fit in with them.

"Em, are you coming?" Neal shouted to me, making me realize just how close I was standing to Killian. I stepped back reluctantly, feeling that invisible tie line anchoring me to him tighten with the strength of a steel cord.

"Are you sure you won't you join us?" I asked nonchalantly, though the pleading in my heart had to be completely obvious to him.

"Thank you for the offer, lass, but I'm eager to revel in my less-than-gentlemanly _pirate_ ways now that all the polite company has been safely stowed to shore." He pitched his voice louder than usual, and a slight turn of my head made me realize why. Neal was halfway down the dock.

"When will I see you again?" I whispered quickly, both annoyed at Neal and uncomfortably nervous to part ways with Killian.

"You know where to find me, love," he whispered back.

"So, will you join us for an ice cream sundae,_ Hook_?" Neal emphasized his pirate name, demoralizing him back into the role of villain. I'm not sure why he even bothered to offer, given the implied 'don't accept' in his tone. Manners don't count unless you mean them. I noted the cold glint in Killian's eyes as Neal stopped shoulder-to-shoulder with me. The tension between the two of them reminded me of some of my face offs with Regina; all sugar-coated-venom rotting from the inside out. This was a detonation waiting to happen.

"While I am simply fascinated to discover how one _ices_ cream, and how said cream has anything to do with a particular day of the week, I'm afraid I must decline. Though I would be grateful for a square meal and a place to bathe if you could be so kind as to direct me to the nearest boarding house?"

I really tried – and failed miserably – to control the blush which swept over my cheeks as soon as he mentioned a bath. My mind exploded with images of him naked and soapy in an antique claw-foot tub, and suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to offer to scrub his back for him.

"You can find a room at Granny's B&B. It's about three blocks that way," Neal pointed, his voice much friendlier now that he knew Killian wasn't joining us.

"Thank you, mate." Killian grinned in that devil-may-care way of his before stepping back onto the ship, presumably to gather his things.

"You'll need money to rent a room," I cautioned, inexplicably unhappy at the thought of him heading to the B&B alone.

"Never been a problem before, lass," he winked and disappeared into the doorway leading to his cabin.

_Infuriating pirate!_ I groaned internally before turning back to Neal. "Well, shall we?"

**E&K&E&K&E&K**

The sundae gathering had been rather uneventful. Nearly half the town crowded into Granny's restaurant and listened – enraptured – as Henry recounted his trials in Neverland. I chimed in at all the appropriate times, but I suspected I wasn't very convincing. Truth was, I was highly distracted by thoughts of Killian only a few buildings down the street and in all likelihood, naked. I'd heard of the adrenalin of adventure producing some rather intense sexual responses, but this was borderline ridiculous. I could feel my heartbeat pulsing all throughout my body and my skin felt too heavy, too tight.

Things almost came to a head when Ruby joined our party. All it took was an innocent comment about being glad the 'devilishly handsome pirate captain' was on our side to set my jealousy blazing. But rather than slip her some kind of hint that said captain was not available, I'd mentioned he'd elected to get cleaned up at the B&B before heading back to the ship. Crowds weren't really his thing, after all. Yeah, she'd been out of there faster than a wolf on the hunt.

I don't know what made me say it. Was it my natural reaction to getting close to someone to want to ruin it before it even started? Was I trying to _test_ him or something? I was fairly confident he'd turn her down, but all I succeeded in doing was making myself miserable and making my chest ache.

Henry left with Regina after practically licking his bowl clean. He was spending the night with her to 'reconnect' and for once, I couldn't fault her. I'd seen how terrified she'd been on the island. I may not entirely trust her to always do the right thing when it came to getting what she wanted, but I did trust her to put Henry above everything else. He was her savior and her reckoning. Mary Margaret and David were gone moments after that. Suddenly, I found myself alone in a booth across the way from Belle, Neal, and Gold, and that was definitely not a place I wanted to be.

I slipped out, waving goodbye to Granny before Neal had a chance to ambush me. Walking through town, my feet urged me to go to the B&B, but with enormous effort I forced myself to walk to the station instead. We'd been in Neverland for over a week; I was sure there was some kind of official business to attend to. More like hoped. Turns out that with my extended family out of the picture, very little conflict occurred in Storybrooke. Go figure.

In the end, I wound up back at the apartment, attempting to ignore the sporadic giggles of Mary Margaret and David coming from their curtained-off room. After a long shower, I collapsed onto my bed and closed my eyes. I laid there for hours trying to shut out the world, trying to push back the craving in my heart that demanded I find Killian. But sleep eluded me, and the craving only worsened by the second, just as I knew it would. I tortured myself with imagined scenes of Ruby and him, simultaneously furious with the possibility and disgusted with myself for caring so much and trusting him so little.

By ten o-clock I was fully dressed and sitting at the kitchen table. Ten-thirty found me pacing by the front door. And now, at eleven-fifteen I was walking purposely toward the Jolly Roger. I'd surpassed any feelings of shame ages ago, and could barely concentrate enough to put one foot in front of the other, let alone worry about what anyone would think. As I rounded the corner which led down an alley toward the docks, I collided into a very firm, very familiar body.

"Killian!" I exclaimed breathlessly, literally clinging to the lapels of his heavy leather coat. "I…I can't…I need…"

"I know, love, I feel it too." He wrapped me in his arms and lowered his mouth to mine in a bruising kiss. The time for gentle had passed. His teeth nipped at my lower lip before placing stinging bites along the column of my throat. I barely noticed as he forced me to step backwards until I connected with the side of the hardware store.

Breathing heavily I cried, "What's happening to us?" My one hand curled through his hair while the other clung to his back.

He smoothed over the marks he'd made with his lips before returning to my mouth. The kiss was deep and long, igniting the spark which had been driving me into a smoldering inferno. I felt his hook trace the length of my thigh before catching it and lifting it to wrap around his waist. He flexed his hips into mine, making me well aware of his mutual need for me. I pressed back, angling our position to feel him right where my body was begging for attention. He moaned, and God help me it was the sexiest sound I'd ever heard in my life.

"You're killing me, love," he groaned into my ear. His voice was low and rough, more intoxicating than all his rum put together. I actually whimpered before dropping my hand to grab his firm backside to press him into me again.

"Make it stop," I begged while rolling against him once more. With each motion, a blinding flash of pleasure flooded my body. It was too much yet not enough.

"The Jolly…" He started to say, but I shook my head.

"It's too far. Please…" I could feel tears forming as the onslaught of lust warred with a sudden desperate fear.

Reaching under me with his hand and forearm, he hefted me up, letting me wrap both legs around him and perfectly aligning our bodies by bracketing me between him and the wall. The laces of his leather trousers dug into the seam of my jeans, but it only heightened the feeling. He rocked into me with steady, solid pressure, sending me higher with each movement. My lips found his again and I sucked his tongue into my mouth as I wantonly ground my hips against his.

The fever suddenly gathered to a focused point, releasing waves of pleasure which had me panting Killian's name over and over. Through my haze, I noticed him push against me once more and freeze, his face contorting in a grimace that was anything but pain.

It was difficult to say who broke from the lust-induced fog first. Slowly, I unclenched my legs and planted my feet on the ground. I was still caged by Killian's body – his arms braced on the wall behind me - but he'd arched back so I had space to stand. His eyes were closed, and I watched as he took slow breaths to calm his pulse. That delicate feeling which had been building all day trembled in my chest. I lifted my fingers to trace the skin over his heart, but stopped before making contact.

Eventually, the urgent passion which had consumed me was chased by a subtle form of panic. I would not regret what we'd done – I'd accepted our chemistry in that department quite some time again – but I did feel a bit ashamed for the way we'd come together. To think I couldn't even make it to his pirate ship let alone a proper _bed_. It scared me how out of control I'd been.

"Don't," he whispered, that gravelly tone still present in his voice.

I swallowed thickly. "Don't what?"

He lifted his hand from the wall and placed it over my chest. "I can feel it, remember, love?" His blue eyes blinked open and it was all I could do not to gasp. I'd always admired Killian's eyes, but I'd never appreciated how much they revealed about him when he truly wanted you to see. Now, his eyes shone with a combination of love and pain. I considered what our actions tonight cost him. I'm sure this was not his ideal first encounter either, no matter how passionate it had been.

"I waited too long; I couldn't control myself." I explained.

His lips twisted and he pushed into a fully upright position. Picking up a lock of my hair he smiled at me, but it was not a happy smile. A heavy ache settled in my chest. Killian was silent.

"I'm sorry." I whispered so softly that I wasn't sure he could even hear me.

"For what exactly?" He glanced at me through his lashes. "Did you not enjoy it then, love?"

I felt the flames licking at my face. Dammit, the man had me pinned to a wall minutes ago, yet he could still make me blush with a few innocent words! "You know I did," I cleared my throat. "But that doesn't change the fact that I was not in control of myself. I hate feeling that way." I implored him to understand what I couldn't seem to put into words.

"And are you in control now?" He inquired softly, all trace of teasing gone from his face.

"I think so," I replied. For the first time I actively tried to sense his feelings through our link, but I couldn't get past my own feelings of shame.

"Then I'm glad I could be of service." He swept an arm before him in the gesture of a courtly bow.

"Killian," I exhaled, "It's not like that. I _do_ want you, I've been thinking about nothing else all day…" I paused as I realized what I'd said. His eyebrow rose in interest. "Just not like that. It was like I had no choice in the matter. I feel like I used you."

His smile this time was a bit more genuine. "I suppose this is where I should lighten the conversation with a well-placed quip about my willingness to be used by you anytime, but as you just admitted – in your own roundabout way – that it was the particular _timing_ rather than the act itself that you found so distasteful, I'll simply say this." He lifted my chin with his hook and made sure I was looking straight into his eyes before he continued. "At the risk of unmanning myself more than I already have this evening," he grinned, "I love you, Emma Swan. And I will always be willing to give you _whatever_ it is that you need. There is no shame in this tonight. And if tomorrow, or perhaps later this evening," he lifted his brow in question, "you find yourself stripped naked and worshipped in my bed, there will be no shame in that either. The next time we come together, the first time I have you completely, you will know without question that you are wanted."

I leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his lips before picking up his hand and placing it over my heart once more. "I don't have the words yet, Killian. But we are connected, and I hope this is already speaking to you." I kissed him again. "Thank you."

His smile widened, treating me to his gleaming teeth and shining eyes. "A man could get used to all the gratitude you've been showering me with lately, love." He playfully nipped at the tip of my nose. "And speaking of showering," he motioned down to his pants. "Have you any idea how difficult it is to clean leather?"

I stifled a laugh, biting the side of my emerging smile. "Sorry about that."

"I'll just bet you are, _temptress_."

"I'd offer you the use of our washing machine, but the apartment is rather…busy this evening, and I suspect leather isn't exactly wash-n-wear anyways."

"That's quite alright, love. I've been a bachelor for a good many years, I'm sure I can _handle_ it." He winked at me, causing a ripple of joy to flow through our connection. All seemed right with the world when Killian Jones was teasing me.

I stared at him, considering what our next step would be. If I learned anything from this little illicit tryst it was that my stubbornness to ignore our bond was never going to work. But until I was sure in my heart _and_ my mind that he was the one and only one for me, I was hesitant to set up house.

"We're going to have to figure out a new arrangement; it's fairly obvious we'll need to spend more time together."

"At the risk of sounding redundant, my offer to share my quarters still stands. I promise to be a perfect gentleman; well, unless the _scoundrel_ is preferred." He smirked.

"Tempting, but I'm rather attached to modern plumbing," I teased. "I'm going to speak with Mary Margaret and David in the morning. I think they should know we're seeing each other at the very least. It will make it easier to work out the details of who's watching Henry."

"As you wish, love."

"But I think I could rough it for one evening. That is, if the _gentleman_ is available." I stressed. I let those delicate feelings he'd been inspiring all day show in my eyes along with a plea that he not give up on me.

Killian smiled sweetly – that smile that was just mine – and held out his arm. "This way, milady." As he escorted me back to his ship, I wondered if I was making a mistake. But I was honestly beginning to not care. At least not for now.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Not sure about this one. As I said up top, the last scene sort of came out of nowhere. If nothing else, I hope it illuminates the conflict Emma is feeling as she tries to 'handle' their bond and ignore her own existing desires. I've also noticed the Emma in my head is becoming much chattier as this story progresses, which I think mirrors her gradual opening of trust toward Killian. She improved by leaps and bounds in this chapter (IMO.)

I would very much enjoy your feedback. Up next - a rather awkward conversation and someone stakes a claim.


	7. Truthful Transitions

**A/N:** This is my favorite chapter of this story to date. Fluff, UST, a little angst, some snark...Feels! :) The title says it all. Lots of character development in this one. Thank you again for all the positive support. A big shout out to a new friend who's been supplying me with massive doses of motivation in addition to some eye-opening conversations about our favorite couple. Hopefully, I live up to her namesake. LOL

Enjoy!

**Chapter 7**

**Truthful Transitions**

For the second morning in a row, I bolted upright from sleep with anxiety coiling in my veins. Only this time, I was well aware of what startled me. My heart was still pounding from the dream, and to my dismay, my cheeks were wet with tears.

I'd been dreaming about a woman with long, wavy brown hair and startling blue green eyes. She was standing aboard a ship with the sun framing her silhouette, a look of pure terror on her face. Her eyes connected with mine before she collapsed – almost as if in slow motion – and an unbearable wave of pain crashed over me. I'd reached out to catch her, but she vanished before my hands could take hold. An inhuman cry rent the air, just as I felt my knees hit the deck, waking me with the remnants of emotion clinging to my psyche.

Pressing a hand over my heart, I willed the beats to slow while drawing measured breaths into my lungs. "Are you alright, love?" Killian's voice was thick with sleep. He shifted nearer, bringing his hand to rest lightly on my back.

"Yeah," I croaked, wiping my eyes and turning to smile down at him. "This time it really was a bad dream," I murmured. "Must have been all the rum," I joked, though in truth, I'd only had a few swigs before my 'gentleman' insisted I get some rest.

After he led me back onboard the ship, he'd excused himself to clean up while I peered out over the dark waters, feeling emotionally wrecked and physically drained. When he joined me minutes later, he was carrying the remainder of the rum from his cabin. We'd toasted to calm waters and clear skies – apparently a token of good luck. He was unusually quiet; maybe sensing my turmoil, and true to his word, he'd demonstrated nothing but the utmost 'good form' for the remainder of the evening. Later, when he'd attempted to depart for the crews' quarters – leaving me the large bed in his cabin – I'd taken his hand and urged him to lie down next to me. I couldn't remember the last time I'd literally just slept with a man, let alone someone I cared for to this degree. I'd waited for the feelings of panic to rise and ruin the moment, but it was actually the calmest I'd felt since this whole ordeal began. I'd fallen asleep to the gentle rocking of the ship and the warmth of Killian's body against mine.

"I've been known to be a fair listener on occasion," he prompted, interrupting my reverie. Unspoken concern simmered in his eyes in spite of the soft smile playing across his face.

Something in the way he was looking at me was too serious, too honest. I was both humbled by it and a bit unnerved. Falling back into usual patterns I challenged, "Oh really? And here I was thinking that your _listening_ skills were only available on ridiculously-difficult-to-climb beanstalks."

He laughed. "Yes well, I was trying to get you to notice me, love." He rolled onto his back and stretched like a cat in the sun. The action pulled his shirt a few inches from his waistline, revealing a strip of skin marked by a trail of dark hair leading beneath the enclosure of his pants. My mind danced with the possibilities of what I might find should I be brave enough to follow it.

"Oh I noticed you alright," I mumbled, feeling my face warm. He turned toward me again, giving me the full weight of his spellbinding sapphire eyes. All traces of my nightmare were obliterated. The moment felt charged. The hairs on my arms stood up as tendrils of electricity licked across my skin. I felt my lips part as a tiny gasp escaped my throat. Slowly, keeping his gaze locked on mine, Killian shifted up onto his elbow until his lips were mere inches from my own. His warm breath whispered over my skin. My pulse was alive, sending sharp staccato beats all over my body.

The sudden shrill ringing of my cell phone caused both of us to jump, breaking our spell more thoroughly than true love's kiss. Killian chuckled before rolling over and groaning into his pillow.

Grabbing the phone, I pressed the accept button. "Yeah?" I snapped, a bit more peevishly than I intended, but talk about a mood-killer.

"Well good morning to you too," Mary Margaret's voice resounded over the line. "Bad time?"

I cleared my throat and stood. "No, not really," I lied. "Sorry, Mary Margaret…you just woke me up is all."

"Oh? Are you over at Neal's?"

"Um, no…why would you assume that?" I frowned, glancing back at Killian who had yet to reemerge from the pillow. Not that I in anyway doubted he was listening intently regardless.

"I just thought…never mind, it's nothing." A moment of awkward silence passed before she spoke again, her voice noticeably more upbeat; "Your father and I are headed over to Granny's for breakfast and we were wondering if you'd like to join us? We didn't get a chance to really talk yesterday."

_Gee, I wonder why?_ My internal thoughts were decidedly snarky. I considered her invitation seriously. While I was pretty sure Killian and I had more to discuss – amongst other things – I did need to talk to her and David. Since I'd given in and stayed by Killian's side, our bond had seemed content and pacified. But there was no telling how long it would last. I wasn't so naïve as to think one good orgasm was all it would take to cure our apparent desperation for one another. So I knew I couldn't attempt to stay away from him for long periods of time until we figured out how to manage it.

"Yeah, sure. Twenty minutes?" I held the phone between my ear and shoulder as I fidgeted with my hair, finger-combing through the snarls as best as I could.

"Sounds good. And Emma?" I heard her sigh. "Be careful."

_She knew_. She knew and it was clear from her tone that she did not approve. "Yep. See you soon." I disconnected the call and checked the time: 8:07am. I could just imagine her tip-toeing through the apartment, trying not wake me, only to discover my empty bed. That she immediately felt the need to check up on my whereabouts was slightly disconcerting. I'd like to think she meant well.

"And how are the Charmings this fine morning?" Killian rolled over onto his back, turning just his head toward me as he spoke. God, I'd never get tired of hearing that deep timbre in his voice first thing in the morning.

"Hungry, apparently." I frowned.

He rubbed his hand over his face before sitting up. The black fabric of his shirt gaped open without his customary vest to cinch it close to his body. I caught a glimpse of a scar etched on his ribs before he stood. Looking to his face, I was greeted to another of his sinful smirks as he reached over to the table to reattach his hook.

"What?" I questioned.

His smirk rose, eyes gleaming. "Nothing, love. Nothing at all."

My eyes narrowed, but I let it go. "I'm meeting them at Granny's in a little bit."

"So I gathered." He walked over to the wardrobe near the cabin door, opening it as he asked, "What is it you plan to tell them, exactly?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but was momentarily stunned as he reached to pull off his shirt. His back was a perfect plane of pale flesh, strong and lean. The scar on his ribs curled down along his side, but he was otherwise unmarked. I had a sudden burning curiosity to hear how that scar came to be, and to feel its texture against my fingertips.

"Bad form, Swan," he whispered, turning his head to catch my blatant staring.

I lifted my own gaze slowly, _purposefully_ raking in every single inch of him before meeting his stare head on. "You must be rubbing off on me."

He laughed, "Oh love, I'm just getting _started_."

I rolled my eyes. "Pirate."

"Aye, love, and all the better for you."

I made quite the show of turning my back while he worked at putting on a fresh shirt and vest. "If I even _sense_ the loosening of leather I'm out of here," I warned.

The doors of the wardrobe snapped shut. "Don't say things you don't mean, love," he chuckled. My lips twitched beyond his sight. "Alright, I'm depressingly decent."

"Hardly," I retorted as I looked around for the rest of my clothes. In hindsight, I was glad I'd dressed in layers last night. Nothing screams midnight rendezvous like rumpled clothes. He held my turtleneck out with his hook wordlessly. I reached to take it, but he jerked it back. My brow rose in wonder.

"You avoided my question; what _are_ you going to tell dearest mum and dad?" His inquiry sent a quiver of uncertainty across our link. For all his outward bravado, it was sometimes difficult to keep in mind that I'd done little to certify his confidence as far as we were concerned.

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "I guess I'll just see how it goes."

"Your plan is to have no plan at all?" His tone was incredulous. "Perhaps I am a bad influence on you after all."

"Please. There isn't a moment that goes by when you're not scheming in one way or another."

He grinned and held out my shirt again. "Glad we understand each other, lass. But just so we're clear, you aren't planning on doing anything so foolish as to avoid me again." It really wasn't a question. I shrugged on my shirt before sitting to tug on my boots. "Or attempting to waylay me by sending me certain…_temptations_? Perhaps those of a particularly wolfish nature?"

I froze. I'd forgotten all about Ruby. A combination of jealous curiosity and righteous indignation flared within me. I wanted to know what happened, but I wouldn't allow myself to ask. I schooled my face into polite interest. "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about."

He crossed his arms and leaned next to the large window. The early morning sunlight played off of his profile, highlighting the touches of auburn in his dark brown hair and beard. I felt as if I was seeing both Killian and Hook; coexisting in perfect harmony for a brief shining moment. His words were soft and playful when he replied, "It always amazes me how people seem to forget the unyielding focus pirates can have when they've set their sights on a particular treasure." His blue gaze never wavered from my face. "You wouldn't underestimate me, would you Swan?"

A few weeks ago, or maybe even a few days ago, I would have ignored the veiled meaning of his words, taken the out he so kindly offered and dismissed his statement as just another tease. But through our bonding, or maybe just because I had allowed myself to begin to know him, I couldn't dismiss him any longer. "Not anymore," I whispered.

I stood and smoothed my hair, suddenly nervous. I wasn't sure how to leave him, but neither was I sure how to stay. "So, um, I'll see you later?"

He pushed off from the wall to approach me. His face was unexpectedly thoughtful and I felt another twinge of uncertainty in my chest. "Would you have dinner with me, lass?"

My eyes widened. "Dinner?"

"Yes, love. You know, the last meal of the day?" He fidgeted, scratching behind his right ear as he peered at me expectantly.

"Why not." I smiled, secretly charmed that the roguish pirate had just asked me out on a date. "Pick me up at six?"

"And if we can't make it that long?" He questioned, clearly hinting at our uncontrolled encounter the previous evening.

"I'm sure a captain of your skill will have no trouble finding me." I smirked.

His answering smile was more illuminating than the sun streaming through his cabin window. I was almost overcome with the urge to grab him and kiss him. It was only because I wanted to do it so badly that I didn't.

He held open the door and let me pass before him, then walked me to the dock. _Seeing me home_, an errant thought took note. As I moved to step over, he caught my hand and brought my knuckles to his lips, kissing them gently as he spoke, "Until tonight, my love."

I have very little memory of how I made it to Granny's.

**E&K&E&K&E&K**

"You were where?" David exclaimed, though from his tone I knew he didn't need me to repeat that I'd spent the night with Hook, with _Killian_. His sudden shout drew the attention of the other diners. Mary Margaret placed her hand over his forearm to steady him. He took a deep breath and met her calm expression. "You knew?"

She looked down at the table, her mouth a firm line. "I suspected," she admitted before looking up at me. "I'm not sure I understand why? I mean, aside from the obvious," she waved her hand, cheeks turning a slight shade of pink. I imagined both of our memories were replaying our brief Neverland conversation about me kissing him. She had been incredulous then, too.

I could practically hear David's teeth grinding.

"No offense, but it isn't really any of your business," I said as politely as I could. Internally, I was more than a bit annoyed at their intrusion; daughter or not, I was a grown adult woman. I was also disturbed at myself for feeling disappointed at their apparent lack of approval, but I'd think through _that_ particular reaction some other time.

Mary Margaret in particular looked a bit hurt by my sharp reply. "Look," I lowered my volume, all too aware of potential listeners. "I know he hasn't made the best choices in the past, but that could be said of a lot of us, and there is more to him than just the vengeful pirate. I know you saw that on Neverland." I met both of their eyes. David's face fell into a faint frown. I could guess at what he was remembering, but he remained silent. Mary Margaret's expression turned thoughtful, though worry still reigned in her eyes. I shook my head, almost disbelieving what I was about to say. "He's important to me. I'm not sure if there's a future for us, but for now, I just need you to know that I will be spending time with him, and I hope you are willing to give him an honest chance, too."

An uncomfortable silence fell over our table as we neither spoke nor touched our rapidly cooling food. The strange tension between the three of us had been present from the moment I'd stepped foot into the diner. Our polite small talk had lasted through the first cup of cocoa and the delivery of our meals. But what was unsaid between us spoke volumes, and eventually, Mary Margaret had just outright asked what she had wanted to ask me this morning on the phone. If I wasn't with Neal, where was I? I could've lied, or at the very least softened the blow, but as I decided on how to respond, I was suddenly really annoyed that they even had to ask. Were they that oblivious to the triangle that had become my love life? Or was it that they so disapproved of Hook they'd completely disregarded everything they'd heard in the Echo Cave? So, ripping the Band-Aid off it was. I'd met their faces unflinchingly and told them I'd spent the night on the Jolly Roger in the company of its captain, launching us into our current predicament.

Finally, Mary Margaret reached over and covered my hand with one of hers. "Emma, we don't mean to judge," she paused as I arched my forehead in disbelief. "He's made it pretty obvious that he's interested in you, but is he being sincere? I just don't want to see you get hurt."

"I know, and I do appreciate your concern. But you have to trust _me_ to make the best decisions for me." I couldn't really fault her for her worry. After all, she wasn't magically linked to the man's emotional core. She had no basis for knowing when he was being truthful and when he was simply teasing. But I didn't have the luxury of ignorance anymore.

"And Neal?" She asked quietly. I could see on her face that she hated to ask, but at the same time, she couldn't resist.

"He's Henry's father and he'll always have a place in our lives. But we had our chance. It didn't work out for a reason."

She glanced over to David, her one true love. When she looked back at me, I could easily read that sadness in her thoughts. "But he is your first love, and now he's back. You can have your chance again – "

I cut her off with a move of my hand. I hated to break their illusions of both Neal and me, but enough was enough. "Listen, I know you're hoping Neal is my one true love and that we'll get our second chance – just like you two – but you don't know the whole story. That's my fault."

I took a cleansing breath and picked up my fork to poke at my soggy pancakes. "Neal had me arrested. It's because of him that I gave birth to Henry in prison, and it's a big reason why I never open up to people. He recently told me that he only did what he did in order to help me fulfill my destiny, but even if I can forgive him for that, he still didn't want me enough to find me after the curse was broken."

"Oh, Emma," Mary Margaret's slim hands pressed over her mouth. Her eyes, filled with concern only moments before, now seemed heartbroken.

David, on the other hand, had regained that angry glare that threatened retribution by way of his sword. "I think Neal and I are going to have a very interesting conversation one of these days."

I fought back a smile, the memory of my seventeen-year-old self pleased by my dad's willingness to defend my honor even if it was eleven years too late. "As long as it's just a conversation," I hinted. "I would hate to lock up my own father."

Both of their faces softened at my acknowledgement to their parentage, just as they always did. We were three people trying to navigate an incredibly complicated relationship, burdened by unintentional hurts which ran so deeply that it was impossible to just completely forgive and forget. But we were committed to doing our best to claim each other regardless.

"So, the pirate it is, then?" David shook his head. "I suppose there are worse options. Though, I'll have to remind him soon about my ability with a sword."

"Don't you mean his ability to use a sword to save your life?" Mary Margaret challenged, referring to Killian hacking through the deadly Dreamshade vines to get the enchanted water which reversed David's curse. She hadn't quite forgiven him for keeping that little secret from her.

Seizing the opportunity to change the topic of conversation I asked, "Any word from Gold about the cure?"

"We're going to stop by the shop after this. I figured he deserved some time to rest, too." David answered. We all knew what he meant by time to rest. _Belle_. There should be absolutely no qualms about me being with Killain – if we did end up together, that is – considering even the Dark One had managed to find love.

"Want some back up?" I offered. They smiled, but declined. I could sort of understand. Given everything that happened, it was easy to forget that behind their tough 'fight for what we believe in' exteriors, they were two people who were incredibly in love, and who had had very little time to just be Snow White and Prince Charming since finding each other once again. This latest challenge was one they would face together; united.

We parted ways shortly after with their acceptance to watch Henry that night. I'd skirted the details, but they knew I was meeting Killian again. I'd like to say I was pleased by the significant decrease in judgment reflecting in their eyes, but it only made the whole situation more real. They didn't know about our bonding…yet, but telling your parents about your 'boyfriend' was supposed to be a big step in the relationship department. In our case, it was unavoidable, but I was still unsettled by how quickly things seemed to be developing.

I bumped into Ruby of all people as I headed toward Regina's to pick up Henry. She looked like the proverbial cat that ate the canary, or was it the wolf who slaughtered the flock? "Hey there, Emma. I was actually just looking for you." Her beatific smile did little to calm my rising suspicions. "Someone asked me to give you this." She handed me an aged looking envelope before stepping around me to continue on her way. "He cares a lot about you, you know," she called over her shoulder but kept walking.

I couldn't recognize the feeling which crept over my heart. It was cold and hot all at once. I stared at the innocuous rectangle in my hands as if it were a jury verdict about to condemn me to prison once more. Finally, I forced my fingers to loosen the seal and removed the folded paper. It took me a moment to adjust to the flourished-style of handwriting – clearly learned many years ago – but as the meaning became clear, the uncertain feeling in my chest solidified in a resounding way.

_My Darling Emma,_

_ You only just departed from my company, but already I yearn to be in your presence once more. As I watched you sleep last night, I thanked every star I've followed over the past three hundred years for leading me to your side. Where there was only loneliness and desperation, there is now hope. I eagerly await our reunion this evening, and leave this small token with you that you might embrace me in your thoughts throughout your day, as I long to embrace you once more._

He didn't sign it. He didn't have to. Reaching back into the envelope, I withdrew a gold coin. I recognized it as the one he pocketed in Anton's treasure room. Looking more closely at its face, I noticed a mariner star embossed on the surface.

Six o-clock could not come soon enough.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: ** I'd love to hear your thoughts! Also, what modern technology would you like to see Killian baffled by? I may incorporate it into their upcoming date.


	8. Unexpected Interlude

**A/N:** Once again the title says it all. This was not entirely planned, but the characters (cough, _Killian_) demanded it. And in the end, he was right. Thank you times a thousand to **Yettoseeyoufail** for the hours of camaraderie and for being such an excellent sounding board. Several ideas in this chapter can be credited to her! I hope you enjoy ;)

**Chapter 8**

**Unexpected Interlude**

As it turned out, my role as Sheriff brought me face-to-face with my romantic pursuant much earlier than we'd planned. After picking up Henry, the two of us had planned on vegging out on the couch and just…_being_. No curses to break, no villains to fight, no mystery to solve; just a day to relax and breathe.

Of course that was not in the cards. Twenty minutes into our Star Wars marathon, I'd received a call from Leroy who just "wanted to inform me that a certain pirate was currently making a scene down by the docks and shouldn't I better come intervene before things got out of control?" Luckily, David and Mary Margaret arrived back home just as I was hanging up. This was not something I wanted Henry seeing.

I shook my head as I approached the small gathering of people. Leroy met my eyes expectantly from amongst his posse of dwarves. I recognized Anton as well, but most of the people were only vague acquaintances. Looking beyond the assembled mass, I spotted him: Hook. Killian.

Someone had managed to restrain him to a light pole with an extension cord. I had a vivid flashback to the Enchanted Forest and tying him to a tree when I was sure he was not who he claimed to be.

His face was a mask – playful to the onlookers, but I could sense his underlying need. It spoke to me without any words at all, though he still felt it necessary to grace me with his witty repartee; "Well, if it isn't the lovely Sheriff Swan. We've got to stop meeting like this, lass."

I forced myself to maintain steady, measured breaths even though his nearness caused my heartbeat to dance. My fingers actually twitched to touch him. I was mindful of the crowd and adopted my best poker face. Ignoring his opening taunt, I turned to Leroy and asked, "What happened?"

He shrugged with great exaggeration. "We were just walking by when he called out to Anton and told him they had some unfinished business."

"Unfinished business?" I glanced over to the one-time giant. Expecting to see rage, I was confused by the twinge of guilt on his face.

"He actually started with an apology for breaking my golden shackles." I could tell he was just as surprised by that little tidbit as I was, his eyes shifting over my shoulder warily. _He _broke_ the shackles?_ Huh_._ I'd file that away to think about later.

"And he ended up tied to the pole because?" I lifted my brow.

The giant's guilt morphed into suspicion. "Well, he started asking about my golden harp, the one which plays music so beautiful that it enchants the listener… said he wanted to borrow it."

My neck muscles seized in an attempt _not_ to swing my head toward the idiotic pirate in question. Did he really think that request was going to go over well? And furthermore, why the _hell_ was he interested in a magic harp? My voice was deceptively soft when I asked, "Did he say why?"

"I'm standing right here, love. Might I be allowed to answer in my own defense?"

Ignoring him – which was much more difficult than it should have been – I waited for Anton's answer. When he spoke again, his words expelled in an angry rush. "He didn't have to! He's a pirate, and he was working for Cora and those other bad humans. I wouldn't believe a word out of his mouth, no matter what reason he gave me."

Memories of Killian's few days in Storybrooke before our Neverland adventure flashed through my mind. He'd switched teams with such regularity that it was no wonder he couldn't be trusted. Not to mention – new leaf or not – he _had_ done some pretty dubious things and pissed off quite a few people. We were both more than a little naïve to believe our burgeoning relationship – or whatever this was – would develop without any hiccups.

"Did he threaten you?" I inquired, still trying to figure out how he'd wound up in his current position.

"Well, no, that's the strangest part…" Anton's voice drifted off, the bewilderment clouding his expression once more.

I turned toward the dwarves, directing my silent question to them. Leroy held up his open palms, a look of incredulity on his burly face. "He asked us to do it!"

"He asked you to tie him up?" Leroy nodded. I closed my eyes and mentally counted to ten before turning to face the pirate. A serene little smile which completely contradicted the battling irritation and infatuation inside me appeared on my face. _Discretion, Emma_! Yes, discretion would be my mantra. "Is it true?"

He beamed at me. "Aye."

"And may I ask why?" The smile on my face was the tight line adults gave to kids when they're trying not to lose their temper.

"Would you believe it was all a terrible misunderstanding?" He asked with a bit too much cheek for someone lashed to a lamp post.

"When it comes to you? Not a chance." I turned back to the crowd. "Okay, I've got this. Thank you for the call. The captain won't be making any more trouble. Will you, _Captain_?"

A quiver of something dark and seductive – akin to the experience of enjoying a really rich piece of chocolate – shivered across our bond. I had the distinct impression I'd experienced something like this scene before only with Killian restrained to the bed in his cabin rather than a light pole, and wearing far fewer clothes. I shook my head, clearing the misplaced fog of lust. If he felt it too he wisely didn't comment. Maybe he wasn't so idiotic after all.

The crowd disassembled begrudgingly. Leroy and Anton were the last to go, an expression which wordlessly asked, "Are you sure you're okay?" clear on their faces. I nodded firmly before stepping closer to Killian. The cord they'd used was knotted tightly behind him. Another surge of what could only be lust attacked me as my hands brushed against his back and his incredible scent invaded my senses. I heard him gasp slightly and smiled to myself, glad I was not alone in my reactions.

"Be glad I was the one on call today. This isn't the way to get into David's good graces," I muttered while working to loosen the knot.

"And here I was under the impression he had already warmed to me," he replied, turning his head to look at me from the side of his eye.

"How _did_ you convince them to tie you up?"

"I may have suggested I was having less than honorable intentions about a fair lass in town, and offered to prove my sincerity in becoming a reformed man by allowing them to restrain me until the _urge_ passed." His eyes darkened in a way I was becoming quite familiar with. "Who was I to know that your world's version of rope would be so…constricting." He struggled against the plastic cords binding his chest, falling slightly forward as I released the last knot.

"You're serious, aren't you?"

"Deadly," he flexed his shoulders and back. "But don't worry; you heard the giant…they don't believe a word I say." He stepped closer to me, his expression stripped of its false 'cheer' now that we were alone.

My heart thudded. "You know, if you wanted to get my attention so badly, there are other ways." I made a mental note to take him to buy a cell phone as soon as possible.

"True, but I wasn't entirely sure where you were and you can't deny that my plan worked most expediently," his voice was lower than usual.

"It's only been a few hours," I expressed, though the link between us _had _started aching almost as soon as we'd parted.

The wind picked up, blowing my hair across my face. Killian's hand reached out to smooth it away, but I was all too aware of our exposed position and shifted back. His fingers curled into his palm as he lowered his arm. "You didn't seem to mind my attentions last night. Or this morning," he stated, eyebrow arched over his piercing eyes.

"It was just a reflex." The lie tripped off my tongue, but I didn't really expect him to believe it. There was no possible way he couldn't sense the gathering turmoil his presence was causing. If he touched me right now, I was afraid I would be consumed again.

"Let's try that again shall we, love?" He stepped closer, encroaching on my personal space.

I took a tiny step back, a little unsettled by his sudden intensity. "Don't. We're in public."

His jaw clenched. He lifted his hand again, but this time to scratch behind his ear in a motion I was beginning to suspect was a nervous habit. "It appears _I_ am the one struggling for control now," he whispered. I could've sworn he was trembling. His breath exhaled in a rush. "I am having _immense_ difficulty restraining myself."

Now I was the one clenching, only it wasn't my jaw. An icy hot sensation rushed over my skin. "We can't. Not here."

He chuckled mirthlessly. "I know that, lass. I'd hoped just having you nearby would soften the blow, if you catch my meaning."

_So not helping!_ I scanned our surroundings. We were alone for now, but that could change without any warning. His ship was nearby, but I was still clear-headed enough to know it would lead to another encounter outside of our control. It's not an accident if you do it more than once. I spotted the door to the old cannery. As far as I knew, the building was one of Regina's props from the curse rather than an actual business. Making a decision I hoped I wouldn't regret, I made for the door and silently beckoned for him to follow me.

His hand immediately found the back of my head as soon as the door clicked shut and before I knew it, his lips were fused to mine in another bruising kiss. I felt him moving us toward another wall, but I pushed insistently against his chest. "Wait," I breathed out, desperate not to lose myself again.

"I need you, Emma." His eyes were nearly black, the irises I'd come to admire so much swallowed by lust. Only one word could describe the emotion he was projecting: hunger. I would've been a bit fearful if it didn't turn me on so damn much.

I placed my hands on either side of his chest, my thumbs brushing lightly against the dark, curling hair. In my mind, I felt like I was merely treading water when I should have been kicking toward shore for all I was worth. We were standing on a precipice; had been looming over it since the Dark Hollow. I knew I wasn't ready to jump – not yet – but I was beginning to trust that Killian would be there to catch me when I did.

I slipped my hands under the lapels of his coat, pushing it back until it hung off his shoulders. Wordlessly, he let it drop to the ground, his face open in its honest wonder. I moved to the fastenings on his vest, managing to undo two of them before his warm hand stopped me. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"I want to feel you," I whispered before touching my lips to the skin above his heart. My eyes felt too big in my face, and the sound of my blood rushing through my veins filled my head with static, but I realized what I said was the truth. Nothing was making me feel this way except the man before me. I was in control, and I wanted to be needed by him. "Let this be just about you. For now."

He swallowed thickly before answering, "As you wish."

This time, his fingers joined mine and we worked together to loosen his vest and shirt. I traced over the smooth flesh of his chest and abdomen, entranced by the texture of his skin and delighted to finally reveal what I'd been imagining just that morning. He was beyond beautiful. His stomach was perfectly defined and only eclipsed by the cut of his hips above his leather pants. I lifted my lips to meet him in another kiss as I let my hands explore every inch of his exposed body. I could feel his heart beating almost frantically against my palm, and I remembered the desperation I'd felt less than twenty-four hours ago. I gave him a tremendous amount of credit for being able to fight against it.

Slowly, I dragged my hand down and cupped him through his pants. He radiated heat and spoke to that decidedly female part of myself that noticed how ridiculously sexy he was. His mouth fell open as I squeezed him lightly. I put a small distance between us as I tugged the lacing free before reaching inside to claim him. "Emma," he breathed.

My fingers wrapped around him, relishing in the contradiction of hot, silky skin over hardness. I stroked him lightly at first, not so much unsure as I was nervous –it had been some time for me, and he was probably much more experienced than I was – but his sudden guttural moan chased any anxiety away. His fingers dug into the skin at my hip before dragging up my body to mold to my breast. He used his other arm to pull me flush against his side as my own fingers found a firm, steady rhythm.

His mouth captured mine again, delving his tongue in and out and sending my thoughts spiraling with possibilities. My grip tightened reflexively as my own noises of pleasure joined his. He broke the kiss as he sucked in a loud gasp of air, squeezing my chest almost to the point of pain. He moved his hand to my upper arm then around my back to cradle the base of my neck. His lips left a trail of kisses down my cheek before attaching to the place where my neck and shoulder met. I felt the sweet pinch of his teeth before he sucked hard on my pulse point. My own ragged breaths preceded a tiny whimper.

"Emma, love," his hot breath fanned over my ear. "I'm almost-" His voice choked off as I increased the speed and pressure of my efforts. I felt him swell within my grasp before he called my name again, his voice laced with passion. His release sent a flood of absolute joy rippling through our link. It nearly took my breath away. When he tucked his face into the curve of my neck, I found myself pressing a tender kiss to his temple.

His arms wrapped around me – pulling me tight to his warm body – and I didn't hesitate to return his embrace. We held each other silently as our breathing returned to normal. After several long moments, he pulled back and reached down to pull a handkerchief from the inside pocket of his coat. He offered it to me first before using it to put himself to rights. I turned away slightly as he worked to refasten the buttons on his shirt and vest, suddenly feeling incredibly shy around him.

"Well, I must say that was unexpected," he nearly purred. He sounded almost drunk. It was absolutely charming.

_You're telling me_, I thought anxiously.

He stepped closer to me and caressed my cheek before tucking my hair behind my ear. "Alright then, Swan?" He cocked his brow in question.

I blinked. "Yeah, of course, why?"

Hi gifted me with another one of my smiles. "Nothing, love. Nothing at all."

I cleared my throat before making a show out of straightening my clothes. "So, I need to get back. Much as I may enjoy these…encounters…I do have a job, and a family, and responsibilities."

His smile only widened. I was beginning to realize he could spot my bullshit a mile away. "I understand. Besides, we've still our _date_ to look forward to."

Right. Our date. "If you can manage not to get yourself tied up again."

His grin widened. "Well that's not much incentive for me, given the results of that little incident."

My lips twisted wryly. "Yeah, well, you interrupted my day. I should be annoyed at you. I was spending time with Henry."

"My apologies, love. I did not mean to intrude on your time with your boy."

"Henry," I insisted.

That soft smile I was beginning to treasure appeared again. "Henry," he agreed. "So, did you get my letter?" His voice was quiet. He shifted his stance as he measured my expression.

"Yes." I bit the inside of my cheek to stop the bloom ascending to my face, though it was useless. I shoved my hands in my coat pockets, my fingers grazing over the smooth metal of the coin he'd given me. He watched me intently, waiting for me to say more. "It was…pretty intense."

"I meant every word."

"I know." The silence stretched between us. Words I'd rarely said to anyone, let alone meant with such feeling were parading on my tongue, but my lips would not let them escape. Not yet. A calm acceptance shined from within his beautiful eyes, which only made it that much harder to keep quiet. "I've got to go. I'll see you at six?"

He nodded. "Six."

"Should I wear anything in particular?"

"Aye, love, clothes would be advisable, at least until after dinner." He winked.

I'd walked right into that one. I didn't even try to hide my answering grin. "I meant, where are you taking me?"

"Well that is a surprise of course."

"Of course," I rolled my eyes playfully.

"But I believe a very short dress would not be amiss." His expression turned wicked.

I laughed. "I'll see what I can do. And what about you?"

"What about me, love?"

"Well, if you hadn't noticed, most people around here don't go around advertising their alter-egos. Tends to stir up old disputes and rivalries. Maybe you should think about trying to fit in a little more. You know, when in Rome?"

"Actually no, love, I'm not familiar with the sentiment; however, I do believe I catch your meaning." The corner of his mouth twitched up. "Though truthfully I thought you quite fancied my clothing." He turned his back as he reached down to pick up his coat.

"There's a time and a place for everything," I retorted as I opened the door, squinting at the unusually bright day. I moved to walk out, but then paused. "And Hook?" I waited for him to turn around before letting my gaze rake over his body. When our eyes met, the fire we'd just worked to extinguish was kindled once more. "Keep the boots. And the earring."

His quiet shock was priceless.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Still taking requests for technology you'd like to see Killian attempt to interact with.

Reviews are almost as delicious as Killian's 'sated' voice. Almost ;)


	9. The Play of Light and Darkness

**A/N:** Thank you, thank you, thank you for all the positive feedback! You are such a wonderful fandom and I am very proud (delighted actually) to be a CS shipper along with you! May I present to you: Date Night! (complete with some of your technology requests.) I know this chapter is quite long (over 7,300 words!) but it didn't feel right to break it in half. I hope that is okay with you? Okay, good! Extra special thanks to** Yettoseeyoufail** who continues to be a champ at supplying me with story-block cures, and other tidbits of knowledge. Once again, she deserves some credit for this chapter!

**Chapter 9**

**The Play of Light and Darkness**

I'd spent the remainder of the day distracted by both the events from earlier and the evening yet to come. Henry and I had managed to get through two movies and take a spur-of-the-moment trip to the local electronics store before Mary Margaret took him for an appointment with Archie. I'd asked if he wanted me to go with him, but with his ever-present smile he'd assured me that he just wanted to fill Archie in on what happened in Neverland. I didn't like the way his eyes seemed less bright than before, as if he'd matured by years rather than days.

I hadn't mentioned my relationship with Killian to Henry yet, and I didn't plan to until I had a better handle on what exactly this bond meant for our future. Not to mention, I was pretty sure I needed to make things clear to Neal, first. After my most recent encounter with Killian, I knew that at the very least, we _were_ going to end up in bed together at some point and not just to sleep. It was no longer a question of 'if', now it was just 'when.' Beyond that, I had no solid answers. Though, with every new moment I spent with him, my hope for something long-term grew.

Looking in the mirror once more, I tugged at the hemline of the short black dress I'd picked out for my date. I had a pretty good idea that he'd been teasing when he requested this type of outfit – it's not as if women in his time walked around so exposed – but I was more than happy to introduce him to the ways of modern women, and the fact that it would drive him crazy was just an added benefit.

I slipped a surprise gift for him into my purse just as a set of slow, rhythmic knocks came from the front door. Sweet anticipation danced in my veins and made my fingers tremble. I was taken aback by how giddy I was acting. After all, it was just Hook. It's not like this was a real first date. _But it is the first time you'll be acknowledging him in public_, my inner voice mused. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before grasping the knob and opening the door.

My mouth dropped, literally. He wore snug fitting dark wash jeans with a wine-colored shirt so dark it was nearly black underneath a solid black sports coat. As per usual, he'd left the top three buttons of the shirt undone, giving me a glimpse of the marvelous chest I'd practically worshiped earlier. And bless the man, he still had on his leather boots and his earring as requested. He'd left off the kohl which normally rimmed his sea-blue eyes, making him appear softer somehow. Still dangerous, but not in the same way as before. But the most notable change was the absence of his hook, a leather-clad prosthetic in its place. I don't know why, but it made me sad to see it gone. "Killian, you look…" I gestured to his outfit mutely, "…good. Really good." I coughed. _Different_, my mind supplied.

His lips curved up in a smug little grin but I'm not even sure he heard my reaction to him. The promise of wicked things flashed in his eyes as he practically undressed me with his gaze, lingering on the stilettos I'd paired with my dress. "Bloody _hell_, Swan!" He looked as if he intended to say more, but couldn't find the words. I'd made the king of innuendos speechless.

"I'll take that as a compliment," I quipped, preening just a bit at his attention.

"You definitely should, love." His eyes made one more pass before settling on my face.

I reached out and traced the skin under his eyes. "You look so different. You didn't need to do all this," I nodded to his overall attire.

His voice was quiet, but resolute. He looked almost shy when he responded. "Yes, I really did." He offered me his elbow, just as he'd done the night before, and winked. "Shall we?"

I let him lead us in silence. It wasn't just that he looked different; whatever this was between us _felt_ different, too. Before, just his presence was enough to awaken our mutual hunger. I was still affected by him, but now it felt both more intense and more sedate than the desperation we'd been battling the past two days. I had a strong suspicion that our date could prove to be quite revealing before the night was over.

He stopped at my Beetle, eyeing the small car with open disdain. "Is there a problem?" I asked, breaking our spell of silence.

**"It's quite the vessel you captain there, Swan."** His words were teasing, but his emotions gave away his underlying unease. He glared at the car as if it were some beast to be tamed.

"Well, it may not be the fastest in the realm, but it serves its purpose." I teased. "I take it our destination requires the use of my car?"

"It's a bit of a distance, yes."

I racked my brain to think of where he would be taking me in Storybrooke that required us to drive. The apartment was within walking distance of most of the businesses in town, and not too far from the docks. "Well then, Captain, lead on." I mock saluted him as we settled into the car.

It was incredibly strange to have him seated in the passenger seat. I supposed it would've been worse had he still been in his full pirate regalia, but then again, maybe not. That was at least familiar, and for that reason, _safe_. I knew how to handle Captain Hook, but Killian? I was still getting used to him. For the first time in as long as I could remember, I actually had those nervous twinges bubbling in my stomach. I kept stealing glances at him from the corner of my eye, taking in his modern appearance and trying to think of something to say.

"So," I began as I pulled away from the curb. His head turned somewhat lazily toward me. The change to his eyes from the lack of liner still threw me. He was still striking – still far from 'normal' – but he suddenly looked more like a fallen angel than the devilish pirate I'd gotten used to. The butterflies were fluttering all over my body now. "Um, where to?"

"Just on the other side of town." His words were perfectly neutral, but the slight smirk gracing his lips and the smug delight poking at my heart spoke volumes. My fingers tightened on the steering wheel, and I willed my ridiculous hormones to calm down.

The silence descended again. Of course the incessantly-chatty rogue would choose now to hold his tongue. "So," I began anew, mentally chastising myself for my utter lack of smoothness. "Where'd you get the new digs?" He arched his eyebrow in question and I realized my mistake. "Clothes. It means clothes."

"A friend," he responded vaguely. "I believe they are what you would call, 'hand-down to me?'"

"Hand-me-downs." I exhaled in a sort of laugh, more directed at myself than him. "You know, I think this might be the first time since I met you that we're not either fighting for our lives or on some other equally perilous mission. I mean, our conversations usually consist of the best methods to flay a demon boy who refuses to grow up, or thwart a villain more dastardly than you, not a commentary on your wardrobe."

He grinned. "I do believe my vocabulary is rubbing off on you, Swan."

"Perhaps." I bit my lip to keep the playful grin from overtaking my face. _Amongst other things_, my helpful brain added.

I reached down and switched on the radio to add some background noise. The song playing had been a Top 40 hit quite a few years ago. As with everything else native to Storybrooke, the station was well behind the times.

"What magic is this?" Killian's voice was filled with genuine astonishment.

"It's called a radio. Don't ask me to explain how it works."

"It's bloody fantastic." An outpouring of sincere awe rushed across our connection, and a question I'd nearly forgotten was suddenly answered.

"Wait a minute; is that why you wanted the harp? You wanted to play me some music?"

He was quiet. "I used to be a fair musician; that is until the Crocodile took my hand. I wanted to share that with you." He quickly glanced at me from beneath his lashes.

_Well, damn!_ The butterflies multiplied and nearly swarmed my chest. "I think I would've enjoyed that."

He listened – transfixed – to the music pouring from the speakers. The lyrics spoke of being willing to do anything for the person you loved, even risk death. I seemed to recall it being the theme to a popular movie from when I was much younger, but couldn't quite place it. As I continued to steal peeks at the man beside me, I couldn't help but think of how many times he had risked his life for me.

We enjoyed the music in companionable silence for the remainder of the trip. He directed me to a small bistro on the other side of town. The sign above the entrance read, "Lumiere's," and was accompanied by a painting of a long-stemmed red rose. "I've never heard of this place," I commented as we walked across the pavement.

"I believe it opened just a few days ago."

My brow arched. "How did _you_ hear about it?"

"From a friend," he replied for the second time. He winked at me enigmatically as he held the door open and ushered me inside.

The dining room was dimly lit with three scrollwork chandeliers spaced evenly apart on the ceiling and individual votive candles on each table. The décor was a perfect combination of a modern bistro and what I would've imagined for an eighteenth century neighborhood café. The rich, heavy smell of French cooking wafted from the kitchen, and a woman's voice sang seductively from the speakers tucked in the corner.

Belle appeared before the two of us with a warm, welcoming smile. "Emma! It's wonderful to see you." She embraced me in a light hug before looking to Killian. If she was at all shocked to see him – let alone us together – she hid it entirely. She actually smiled at him! "Captain; I haven't had a chance to thank you for bringing Rumpel home safely."

"No thanks needed, love." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and I could feel how her words unsettled him. Was he thinking about having to work alongside his Crocodile, or was he feeling remorse at what he'd done to Belle?

Sensing the bit of awkwardness, I jumped in; "So what are you doing here?"

She turned her attention back to me, letting a certain pirate off the hook. "Just helping an old friend get his business off and running."

"I would've expected you to be spending all your time with Gold," I laughed.

A slight crease settled on her forehead. "Yes, but he's been a bit…distracted since he returned. He asked me to give him some space, just until he finishes whatever it is he's working on."

I didn't necessarily like the sound of Rumpelstiltskin being too distracted by something that he was pushing his true love aside. But I didn't want to worry Belle any further. "He's probably just working on that cure for David. You know how protective he is of you; I bet he doesn't want you too close when he's using his magic."

"I'm sure you're right." She seemed to remember her purpose for greeting us as she picked up two menus from the hostess stand. "Would you like to sit in the back room? It's more private, there." As she spoke, I was suddenly aware of the numerous pairs of eyes considering Killian and I. Chief amongst them: Whale and Ruby.

"Yeah, that sounds good," I replied amiably enough, though I knew my wary face was not convincing. I wasn't stupid. If the scene at the docks proved anything, it was obvious the patrons of Storybrooke would need some time to get used to their newest resident. That he had just waltzed into a fancy restaurant with their savior – sporting a rather drastic makeover – was bound to feed the rumor mill for days. Not that I particularly cared what they thought.

Ruby stopped us as we passed her table. "Emma!" Her grin was a little too fondly directed toward my date, and a direct contradiction to the expression on Whale's face. "Hook. I see you found the place okay."

_Wait, WHAT_? I could feel my eyes narrow completely out of my control. Ruby was the one who'd recommended the restaurant? Just what else had Ruby inspired?

Killian's lips twitched and I could tell from the jolt of satisfaction that he was trying to hide a burgeoning smirk. "Aye, love. Thank you for the recommendation."

"No prob! Oh, and be sure to try the crème brulee...it's absolutely delicious!"

My eyes roved between Killian and Ruby, catching an equally not amused Whale glaring from behind his glass of white wine. I touched Killian's elbow to get his attention. "We will. Enjoy the rest of your meal."

I held my tongue until Belle had seated us, though it was obvious from the jovial glint sparkling in his blue eyes that Killian was completely delighted by my reaction. I supposed it would be a shame to disappoint him. "Want to tell me what that was all about?"

"That's not jealousy I detect, is it Swan?" He practically beamed.

"Perhaps," I retorted, willing him to volunteer once and for all what had happened between him and Ruby yesterday, but too damned stubborn to ask.

His hand reached across the white linen tablecloth to stroke over my fingers, making my stomach muscles seize. "You have absolutely no cause for concern, love. My relations with the lady wolf are entirely platonic. It seems we are both rather afflicted with a romantic nature, and she was only too keen on helping me succeed in my endeavors."

My eyes looked back at the lady in question of their own volition. She was laughing at something Whale was saying. He looked positively smitten. Come to that, so did Ruby. _How long has _that_ been going on?_ I wondered.

"What the bloody hell is all this?" He suddenly exclaimed under his breath, eyes roaming over the menu.

I peeked at the listed options: _coq au vin, boeuf bourguinon, escargots, ratatouille_…all classic dishes, but all in French. "Didn't you know this was a French restaurant?"

Two faint spots of color appeared on his cheeks. I never would have guessed the fearsome Captain Hook still had the ability to get embarrassed. He was so entirely out of his element, and I was torn between laughter and compassion.

I cleared my throat, drawing his attention away from the menu. "What's this all about anyways? The letter, the candles, the fancy dinner? No offense, but I'd hardly pegged you as the hearts and flowers type."

"I thought this was quite customary in your world?"

I shrugged. "For some, maybe; but you're a pirate. Doesn't really fit the stereotype."

A sense of quiet reflection rippled through our connection like cool water. "You know love, I wasn't always a pirate." His voice was softer than usual. "I told you once that I follow a code. That I believe in good form."

"David mentioned you used to be an officer."

A strange smile played at his lips. "Yes, well, that was a long time ago. But the point is, I _do_ know how to be a gentleman. I do know how to respect a lady."

I laughed. "And what makes you think I want you to treat me like a lady? Did I give you that impression earlier? I _like_ your pirate side."

His brow arched, clearly unconvinced.

"Honestly, Killian, this really isn't me. And as much as I appreciate you attempting the whole 'wine and dine' cliché I'd much rather spend time with you just as you normally are, infuriating tease and all." I reached over and plucked the menu from his hand, placing it on the table between us. Smiling mischievously, I tugged him to his feet. "C'mon; there's another place in town that's a bit more suited to people like us."

**E&K&E&K&E&K**

The Rabbit Hole was surprisingly busy for a Wednesday evening. I'd only just been able to squeeze my car into a tiny space at the end of the furthest row, and even then, there were cars still circling the lot.

Killian and I had maintained a light banter during most of the ride from Lumiere's, but now that we'd stopped, a pleasant sort of tension pulsed between us. I'd found myself openly staring at him more than a few times during our date. Sometime between our _dalliance_ that morning, and watching him pull out all the stops to _woo_ me, I'd given myself permission to go with the flow and let whatever happened…happen. It almost felt like my old life – before I'd discovered my fantastical history – and Killian was just a regular guy I'd met at a bar. Granted, an insanely sexy guy, but dressed as he was, he could've fit in easily at the places I used to frequent.

I was watching him again, taking in the scruff which decorated his perfect jaw line. I was nearly overcome with the desire to feel its roughness with the tip of my tongue. My breaths became shallower and my lower body clenched as I imagined it. This had nothing to do with our bond; this was pure, unadulterated desire, and I suddenly realized how very much I wanted to kiss him.

I tugged on his elbow as he made to open the door. "What is it?" He questioned, looking over at me.

I undid my seatbelt and shifted toward him. "Just another modern dating ritual," I breathed before seizing his mouth with my own. His taste was intoxicating. I thrust my tongue past his lips, feeling as though I might die of thirst if I couldn't completely drink him in.

I was distantly aware of his arms wrapping around me and my legs moving to straddle his lap, causing my dress to ride up nearly to my waist. My fingers grabbed thick handfuls of his silky, dark hair and I angled his head back to deepen the kiss further. His hand stroked up my back before wrapping around my shoulder and moving up my neck to cradle my face. I could feel him growing hard and ready between my thighs, and I couldn't help but shift my weight to rub against him.

I turned my face to nip along his jawline – just as I'd imagined – and sighed with pleasure as his hand drifted down to caress the tender flesh of my inner thigh. Someone groaned, and our mouths found each others' once more.

"Get a room!" An angry voice called from the front of the car. I jumped back from Killian and spotted Leroy scowling in our direction.

Killian chuckled, though it had a slightly desperate edge. "Really, Swan? At this rate I'll be tied to a stake in the town square and your father will be gleefully setting my genitals ablaze." He leaned over and nuzzled his cheek against mine, whispering in my ear, "Not the best way to mend my reputation, love." His teeth caught my earlobe before he settled his forehead against mine and closed his eyes.

We breathed deeply together. My pulse thrummed wildly in my chest, but I was in no more danger of losing control than any other normal encounter with an object of my affection. My smile was radiant. "To be continued?"

"Bloody hell!" He whined as I climbed back into my own seat. I caught him readjusting himself as I stepped out of the car. The night air was cool and crisp; perfect for momentarily taming my ardor. Though, that never lasted long when Killian was around.

It was several minutes before he joined me. Neither of us spoke, but I was fairly certain we wore matching smirks of almost satisfaction. "Shall we?" I cocked my eyebrow in his direction.

"If we must," he grumbled good-naturedly. He waved with his hand. "Lead on, love."

We were assailed by the cacophony of sounds pouring out of the bar before we'd even crossed the threshold. Loud rock music blared from the speakers and the dings of the gambling machines ricocheted through the air.

"So is this your typical date then, Swan?" He asked once we'd claimed a pair of stools at the massive bar.

I snickered. "That would require an actual date. I've always been more the 'no-strings-attached' kind of girl."

"Until now," he commented, measuring my face for my reaction.

"Until now," I conceded. At least, I hoped so.

"I really did want to take you to dinner," he pouted. It was inexplicably charming.

"Maybe some other time," I grinned. "Maybe we can double with Mary Margaret and David."

The look on his face was beyond priceless. It served him right after the whole Ruby thing. Nevermind that I was the reason they'd met to begin with.

We placed our drinks – beer for me; rum and coke for him – and I shared with him one of my more exciting bail bonds stories. He laughed at all the appropriate places even though I suspected he didn't entirely comprehend all of my modern terms.

"What about you? What is one of your favorite adventures from Neverland?" I inquired, genuinely curious to know more about the villainous Captain Hook than the obvious falsehoods I'd learned in my childhood.

He fidgeted, making my curiosity stand up and shout. "Oh come on; you couldn't have spent all of those years focused just on your revenge."

"Perhaps there were a few distractions…here and there." He made a vague sort of gesture with his hand. The light reflected off the deep red jewel of one of his rings. "But all in all, I've few happy memories of that wretched island." His expression turned distant.

I grabbed his hand, gently rubbing my thumb over the ring on his third finger. "Okay, what about this ring? Where did it come from?"

He smiled and a story sparkled in his eyes. "Ah yes, that is one of the less _miserable_ memories. He paused, pondering. "It was quite some time ago."

"Hmm having trouble remembering? That old age catching up with you?"

His grin turned positively predatory. "I didn't hear any complaints about my 'old age' earlier, love."

"Touché." I let go of his hand to take a sip of my beer before quirking my eyebrow at him. "Well, Captain…_regale_ me."

"There used to be a little harbor town on the north end of the island; that is, before Pan had one of his more colorful tantrums and practically demolished the place. We'd docked for a few days of shore leave and I found myself - most predictably - into the cups at the local tavern."

"I'm shocked," I teased, though more than anything I was entranced by his voice as he reminisced. The smooth lilt took on an almost musical quality as a wry smile teased his lips.

"Yes, well...I don't recall the exact details of how I entered the game, but the ring was won through a lucky round of Liar's Dice. Are you familiar with it?"

I shook my head no.

"I'll have to teach it to you some time. Something tells me you'll be quite brilliant at it." He took a swig of his drink before continuing. "One of the players had already amassed quite a stock of winnings, and naturally, I was feeling only too glad to relieve him of such a burden."

"Naturally," I agreed, rolling my eyes.

"He was quite an ugly bloke. He had the most unfortunate squatty face, like a toad – warts and all. But he claimed he was really a prince under an enchantment."

"Let me guess; he was waiting for his true love to kiss him and turn him back into his formerly handsome self?"

"Naturally," he winked, throwing my own sarcasm back at me. "But I fear fortune was not on his side. He was too brash, and he had a fairly obvious tell." His thumb rubbed absently over the ring in question. "Whenever he believed he had the upper hand, he would stroke the side of this ring and lick the side of his lip. Once he'd revealed that, it was fairly easy to unburden him in record time."

"So he had to give up the ring to settle his debts," I concluded.

"In a matter of speaking. I cut it from his finger when he refused to pay me my due. Filthy cheat."

I could feel the abrupt change in my facial expression, his words not so much disgusting me as stunning me. He merely shrugged, unapologetic. An anxious ripple along our link was my only clue that while he wasn't necessarily ashamed of his past, he did worry about how I would take it.

A beat of silence passed before I answered. "Sounds like bad form," I commented, intentionally vague as to who exactly was in the wrong.

"Indeed," he agreed.

I just shook my head. "I'm a bit surprised you kept it."

His lips curved wryly. "I seem to recall being rather fond of the metalwork. It's quite unique." He held his hand out to inspect the ring once more. Upon closer examination, I noticed several flowers engraved onto the band including one that looked a bit like my buttercup tattoo.

His attention shifted beyond my shoulder and he frowned. "Is it a normal part of your courting rituals here to stare at a shiny box instead of your love's eyes?" He motioned to a couple sitting a few stools down from us who were both engrossed in their phones. "It was much the same scene at the restaurant."

I snickered, though his notice of the technology reminded me of the gift I'd brought for him. "Oh! I almost forgot." I reached into my purse and retrieved the extra cell phone I'd purchased that afternoon. "I got this for you. So you can get a hold of me directly, next time. It's a cell phone. It allows you to speak to a person who is a long distance away from you."

He accepted the phone with extreme puzzlement etched on his features. I tried to imagine the experience from his perspective, but simply couldn't. As he'd pointed out, things like Smart Phones were as imbedded into my reality as duels and vendettas were in his. I held back a laugh as I gave him a quick tutorial, sliding my finger across the screen and selecting the contacts list. "When you want to get a hold of me, all you have to do is press here."

His index finger touched the screen experimentally, causing my phone to ring. I pulled it from my pocket to silence it, but his hand halted my wrist.

"How is it possible to capture such a perfect likeness?" His blue eyes were wide as he stared at the image of Henry set as my phone's wallpaper.

"What…the photo? It's easy. You just push another button."

"Show me." There was a subtle command to his tone that sparked my fever once more.

I demonstrated how to use the camera application by taking a picture of our drinks, hiding my grin at his sheer wonder. "Do you want to try it?"

He took the phone and clumsily aimed it in my direction. "May I?"

I nodded and held my pose, feeling that telltale heat creep over my face. I heard the soft click of the camera and turned toward Killian. There were no words to describe the look on his face as he gazed upon the screen. My blush deepened.

"Don't look at it too much or you'll wear down the battery."

"The what?" His voice was leery and he looked a bit concerned. I shook my head again, this time letting the laugh escape. "Nevermind. I'll show you how to charge it."

I heard the camera click once more and lifted my head to see Killian grinning mischievously. "Sorry; I couldn't resist. It's so rare that I see you laughing." He tilted the phone to show me the latest picture. I scarcely recognized myself. My cheeks were flushed and my eyes looked lit from within. I felt my expression fall as I realized how right he was.

"Yeah, well, there hasn't been much cause for it lately."

We were both quiet for a moment. Contemplative. Memories of the past weeks flitted through my consciousness. I could only imagine what he was thinking. He reached over to tuck a strand of my hair back – another of his habits – and let his fingers caress my cheek as he pulled his arm away, his gaze entirely locked on mine. The tenderness in his expression amazed me. Somehow in the past forty-eight hours he'd allowed that mask of arrogance to crumble away, revealing his true self. I'd caught glimpses of the vulnerability since he'd awoken, but now the raw honesty was accompanied by a sense of calm assurance. This man knew his feelings. He looked at me with surety and patience. He looked at me with love. _But for how long?_

Our bond undulated for the first time that evening, and I felt my breath quiver. It was too much. I had only just begun to process my true feelings for Killian Jones. Sure, he'd be patient for now; but would it last? How far would I fall before he gave up on me too?

"I'll be right back." I offered him a faint smile as I slipped from my stool and headed toward the back hallway where the restrooms were located. I just needed a break to get my head on straight.

I patted some cold water on my overheated cheeks as I stared myself down in the mirror. Mirrors were supposed to be a true reflection of reality, not the reality we perceive to be true. If that was the case, then my true reality was broadcasting what my imagined one was trying desperately to ignore.

_You're falling in love with him._

I couldn't even blame it on the bond. The more time I spent with Hook…with _Killian_, the more I genuinely liked him. I'd pushed him away from the very beginning using one excuse or another. And yet, he'd always found a way through each and every hoop. Maybe hope would not be so fleeting this time?

"Emma!" Tinkerbelle exclaimed as she pushed roughly through the door. Her expression was one of near panic.

"What is it? What's wrong?" I spun to face her, pulse galloping. _Where the hell did she come from?_

"It's Hook. And Bae."

I didn't need to hear anymore. I shoved past her and scanned the bar. Noticing it empty, my gut reaction had me running for the entrance. A sizeable crowd had gathered on the sidewalk, hiding the source of the raised voices from my eyes. Pushing my way between several onlookers, I managed to get to the front just in time to overhear Neal say, "You know how I know her 'lie-detector' is bullshit? It's you. She doesn't see through the leather and the guy-liner and charm. She's letting you use her, just like you did my mother." He scoffed. "You just flash those blue eyes and grin and off they go like lambs to the slaughter, abandoning everything they love and all their common sense."

I gasped just as a flash of blind fury wrapped in jealousy raced across my synapses, mixing with my own shock and confusion in a very unpleasant combination. The scene unfurled as if playing in slow motion. Kilian shoved Neal against the wall of the bar and snarled, "You have no bloody idea what you're talking about, _mate_!" His fingers twisted in the fabric at Neal's throat. "Emma would never-"

"Hook!" I yelled as I immediately placed myself between the two men, holding them at arm's length. His chest was heaving, eyes dark and dangerous like the pirate I'd left chained on top of a beanstalk. "What the hell happened?"

His jaw clenched and he was refusing to meet my eyes, keeping them steadily on the man behind me instead. After a moment he sighed deeply and stepped back, turning away from both of us and pacing with noticeable agitation.

I glanced back at Neal, noting the red mark on his neck where Killian had twisted his collar. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just great." He spat on the sidewalk. "Real stand-up guy you've got there, Em."

"Neal…"

"I get it. Hell, even my own mom couldn't resist his charm. But I won't let him take you away from Henry like he took my mother from me." His voice raised on the second part of the statement, no doubt intended for Hook to hear.

I flinched at the reference to Milah. "It's not like that-"

"Then explain it to me, because I sure as hell don't understand!"

I looked between the two of them again, completely aware of the symbolism we struck. My past and my would-be future. My first love and my potential forever love. And then there was me, stuck between them both. We couldn't go on this way. I hadn't intended to speak with Neal so soon, but if I'd learned anything since moving to Storybrooke it was that fate didn't give two shits about your intentions.

I inhaled slowly before approaching Killian. His eyes were still too hard, but now they were cautious again. That lightness he'd so freely displayed only moments before was now waiting for my condemnation. "Give me a minute with him," I said. He hesitated, obviously not pleased to be leaving me alone with Neal. I hated the unease creeping across our link, but my voice was uncompromising. "Please."

He sighed before giving me a little half bow and retreating toward the parking lot. With my best Sheriff's glare and a jerk of my head I motioned for the crowd to scatter. All but Tinkerbelle returned to whatever business the 'almost fight' had interrupted. She nodded once to me before crossing to a bench on the other side of the seat, presumably to wait for Neal.

As soon as we were alone, I spun to face him. "Want to tell me what that was all about?"

His face tightened. "I saw you earlier. By the docks. With him."

I shrugged, belying the wisp of panic assaulting my heart. "There was a misunderstanding between him and Anton. It's all settled now."

"Yeah, it sure looked that way. He has a real 'uncanny' ability to get you to do whatever he wants." He shook his head. "What are you doing, Em?"

"It's really none of your business," I seethed, beyond annoyed to be repeatedly called out on my behavior with Killian.

A flash of pain crossed his face almost as if he'd been punched again. "Ouch. Well, I guess that says it all, doesn't it?" He looked so much like a wounded puppy. _Two for two, Emma._

"You're one to talk. Tinkerbelle?" I asked, tossing my head in the direction of the beautiful fairy.

He looked toward the ground. "She's an old friend."

"Yeah. I've heard that one before." My eyes rolled.

"I guess it doesn't really matter what you believe, does it? You made your choice." He reasserted the same accusation he'd made onboard the Jolly Roger. Then, I wasn't sure what I was going to do about my connection to Killian. Now, I knew what I _wanted_ it to mean, but I wasn't entirely convinced it would all work out the way I was hoping. Regardless, this tete-a-tete with Neal needed to stop.

I sighed deeply. "We're bonded."

"_What_?"

"It happened in the Dark Hollow. The light you saw…I somehow bound his life to mine. You can ask your father if you don't believe me. He was there when I completed it."

His eyes narrowed. "And what does that mean exactly?

"I can't really explain it. But I care about him, Neal. I know you have a lot of reasons to hate him, but you don't get to make that choice for me."

"You're right. But I do get to make choices for Henry. I don't want him around our son. I don't want him to do to Henry what he did to me. Did he tell you? How he gave me up to the Lost Boys to save his own hide? He's just as much a coward as –"

I cut him off. "As who, Neal? As you? As me? We've _both_ given up someone we professed to love. Not one of us is perfect! What matters is how we make up for those mistakes."

His voice lowered. "I'm trying, Em. But it's pretty difficult to win your attention when you're letting yourself fall hook, line and sinker for the same guy that ripped my family apart once before. _Pun intended_."

I just shook my head, feeling my ire rise once more. "I am not a prize to be won! And I heard what you said, you know. Do you really think so little of me? That I'd just abandon my son for some _guy_?"

He shrugged. It pissed me off.

"I meant what I said."

I clicked my tongue. "Well; look who finally showed up to be a father." There was no disguising the callous sarcasm of my taunt. It was a low blow and I knew it. But enough was enough!

He laughed angrily. "And you think Hook will do a better job?" A momentary flash of shame rolled across my mind. I'd been so distracted by maneuvering within our new connection that I'd thought very little about Killian's role in my completely messed-up family. "See; you didn't even think about it, did you?"

"He's not the same person you knew all those hundreds of years ago," I challenged.

Neal huffed. "You keep telling yourself that." He rubbed his hand through his hair, an almost pain-filled smile on his face. "God, I don't know how he does it. Have you forgotten everything? What about Belle? And Aurora? Is that really the kind of man you think you can trust? The kind of male figure you want around Henry?"

I kept my silence. My expression never wavered, though some of what Neal was saying was hitting a little close to home.

"Just…just be careful, Em. And please – for Henry's sake if not for your own – really think about what you're getting into." He looked at me sadly before walking over to join Tinkerbelle.

I waited a few minutes before slowly making my way to the parking lot. My mind was struggling to process everything I was feeling. As angry as I was at Neal's insinuations, I couldn't deny that there was some validity to his concerns. I was falling in love with Killian, but for all the intensity of our feelings for one another, I didn't really know him. Not in the way that mattered to someone in my position. And was I really so arrogant as to believe that his blossoming love for me would undo hundreds of years of being Captain Hook? I hoped so. But I didn't _know_. It was the not knowing that made everything so confusing.

I found Killian leaning against the side of my bug, flask in hand and face expressionless.

"We need to talk."

A strange, resigned smile appeared on his face. **"When a woman says that I'm rarely in for a pleasant conversation.**" He tossed back a large amount from his flask and swiveled to face me.

My heart began racing as it often did in Killian's presence, but for once it had nothing to do with attraction. "I appreciate you standing up for me, but I hope you know I am capable of fighting my own battles."

"I believe I am _intimately_ aware of that, love."

I paused to regain my courage. "Look, tonight was great," I started.

"It was," he agreed. "But it wasn't enough, was it?"

_I don't know,_ my heart and mind screamed. "I _do_ care for you, but I have a responsibility to my son above everything else and with all the madness of whatever this is between us, I've been neglecting that. I guess I'm just not sure how you will fit into that life."

He nodded while pursing his lips. "Of course. Baelfire is the lad's father."

"Baelfire? Wait, you think I'm choosing _Neal_?"

His voice was devoid of emotion. "He told me what you said. That you loved him."

I felt my heart squeeze with almost the exact pain I'd felt when Cora had attempted to remove it. Killian's face had not changed, but his eyes…his eyes looked hollow, as if my words were sucking the hope from his soul. He wasn't supposed to be the one with doubts. He told me he knew my feelings even without me saying them.

My hope deflated along with his. Tears bit at the corner of my eyes. He _was_ giving up on me, just as I feared. The fluttering of abject alarm echoed within my rib cage. "I see."

He pushed off from the car abruptly and stepped closer to me, invading my space as was his way. A sad sort of smile hinted on his face. "No, love, I'm not sure that you do."

My breath caught in a slight hiccup. I took in every detail of his face, from his thick, dark brows, to the small scar on his cheek, to the curve of his sultry mouth. Half of me wanted nothing more than to wrap my arms around him and pour out every single one of my feelings. The other half kept fixating on the kernel of fear sitting like a lead weight in my soul.

Without warning, his hand came to the side of my face, forcing me to look directly into his eyes. "I can feel what you're doing. But I won't let you push me away, not forever. You need space? You need to exhaust all the reasons you think this won't work? Fine. But I'm not giving up on you, Emma. I've _never_ given up on you. Stop letting yourself give up on me." He dropped his hand and stepped backwards, watching my face for a few moments before turning and heading back toward the bar.

"Don't you need a ride?" I called, my voice shaking in response to the riot of panic in my chest.

"I'm sure I can find the way."

"Don't be ridiculous. C'mon. Let me drive you back to your ship."

His half smile was almost patronizing. "But you see, Swan, I'm not quite ready to head back to my quarters like a good little boy, yet. Though, I thank you for the offer."

"Killian…" I called again, though truthfully I didn't know what to say.

He paused. "This isn't a bloody game, Emma. You know where I'll be when you've made up your mind."

"But the bond-" I started to say.

He closed his eyes and rubbed behind his ear. "Aye, the bond." The hurt radiating from him felt like daggers to the heart. "I suppose you can always count on me for _that_. After all, that's what pirates are good for, right love?" He leveled his eyes on me once more – looking upon me with a peculiar mix of pity and pain – before disappearing around the corner which led to the Rabbit Hole.

My right foot actually took a step to follow him before my conscience tightened control. My hands squeezed into fists as I took a deep, steadying breath. Those two halves of me felt as though they were strangling each other in a cage match to the death. I wished I had the odds on which side would win.

I crossed to the driver side of the Beetle and climbed in. My eyes kept straying to my rearview mirror as I headed home to my son, ignoring the throbbing wound that called itself my heart.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** (Peeks out from hiding) Are you mad? Like, how mad?

This author is a firm believer in HEA. Just keep that in mind ;) Any guesses for the song playing on the radio? It was my wedding song.

I would love to hear your reactions and theories. Not to beg or anything, but reviews are highly motivating. :D


	10. Mixed Messages

**A/N: **I'm back! A huge thank you to all you lovely readers reviewing, favoriting, and following, as well as the thousands (I know, I can't believe it either) who've been taking a chance on my humble story. Thanks and credit again to **Yettoseeyoufail** for the continued support and excellent ideas (you get to enjoy a few of her lines in this one, too!). Be sure to check out her new fics; Trickery and Bases Loaded.

So, I know the last chapter left us all a bit down, but this was always intended to be an exploration of Emma first learning to let herself love, and then letting herself trust. Chapter 9 was the turning point. As this is told from her POV, we only get to see her observations and inferences, which are not always correct. She (and I) thank you for your patience as we follow her emotional transformation with a certain blue-eyed pirate. This chapter is full of family feels and introspection. Killian is here, just not in the way you might expect.

**Chapter 10**

**Mixed Messages**

My eyes opened to the soft rays of early sunlight, the false cabin-like surroundings of the dream dissolving away with the shadows of the night and the past. Sorrow gripped my heart and sweat beaded on my forehead. I blinked furiously, trying to erase the image from my mind and fight back the tears threatening the corners of my eyes, but the young man's pained face lingered. His labored breaths still rang in my ears, and the tang of salt and sea clung in my nostrils.

I'd caught a glimpse of my dream persona's reflection as I'd collapsed by the mirror in the cabin. The face was younger – more rounded – and the hair was longer. But it was still a face I'd come to recognize almost as well as my own: Killian. I'd dreamed of the moment he'd witnessed his brother's death. Had he ever told me the details of that story? It felt so real. I looked at my fingertips, still feeling the rough woolen fabric of the man's coat tingling on my skin. He'd died in my arms. My chest felt broken. Not aching; completely _shattered_.

An incessant blinking light drew my attention to the cell phone on my night stand, alerting me to a message. All it would take was two flicks of my index finger and I could be connected to his voice. I so desperately wanted to hear that incredibly sexy coarseness he had when he'd first awoken. But then I remembered the night before. I had no way to know if he'd even made it back to his quarters. For all I knew, he could be shacked up with some barfly who didn't push him away every chance she got.

_You know he wouldn't do that, Emma_.

I reached over to check the message. As it turned out, I had two texts. The first: _"My earliest memory is off standing onthe docks watching the ship's retyrn to their moorings." _The second was sent five minutes later: _"My brother pushed me inti the water when my back was tirned rather than Fear drownung i learned to fight for survivl. Ive loved the sea ever since."_

They were sent three hours ago. I felt my pulse careen through my veins. What kind of coincidence was it that my dreams were filled with his brother at almost the same time he was apparently taking a stroll down memory lane? Clearly this was another consequence of the bond, but how exactly did it work? Was he sending these thoughts to me intentionally? By accident?

My ire faded almost as quickly as the dream. I'd felt his total devastation as he'd lost the two most important people in his life and how his existence had descended into a chasm of loneliness and hollow pointlessness. I'd had those exact feelings myself once upon a time. Why would he willingly inflict those upon me? For that matter, what memories of mine had our bond seen fit to show him?

My thumb caressed over the latest message and a tiny smile blossomed on my lips. I could only imagine his frustration with typing the few sentences letter by letter. Mistakes and all, I had to admit I was damn impressed with how quickly he'd figured out this function of his phone, not to mention touched by its message. The mental scene of him grappling with texting was replaced by a young dark-haired boy, beaming with amazement as he gazed out at a harbor full of ships. The smile on my face grew and warmth flooded my chest.

I considered what to reply. I was still torn after the events of our date. He'd won my heart, just as he'd promised, but my head and my heart had a history of not agreeing. Neal aside, I had meant what I'd said about not really knowing him. Was this latest message his attempt at letting me learn more about him? I had to admit, I loved that despite my pushing him away – again – I was still apparently in his thoughts even after he returned to the bar.

My face fell again as I remembered last night. Apparently, this was going to be an emotional whiplash kind of day. I'd hurt him; how badly, I wasn't sure. Getting these texts made me both hopeful and guilt-ridden. I didn't want him to stop fighting for me, but I did need space – at least as much as our bond would allow.

Since the Dark Hollow, everything had been so…_intense_. My heart was screaming to be with Killian, but my head was much more experienced and wanted to be sure before descending too far down the path to potential heartbreak. And Neal was right; I didn't have the luxury of thinking only about myself. Since offering his ship to help us save Henry, Killian had been dependable and honorable, but that was only a week. Seven days out of three hundred years. Had he really changed? Permanently? I didn't mind a bit of the pirate, but I had no place for the revenge-blind villain to return.

I focused back on the screen, index finger hovering over the keyboard. I honestly had no idea what to say. I neither wanted to encourage nor discourage him. The sudden sound of Mary Margaret's voice calling me to breakfast was my saving bell. I stuffed the phone into the pocket of my pajama pants and quickly ran a brush through my hair.

The scene in the kitchen was disturbingly domestic after the roller-coaster of emotions I'd endured over the past twenty-four hours. Mary Margaret was stationed at the sink, cleaning up some of the breakfast dishes while Henry sat at the table engrossed in his fairy tale book. I felt a momentary blast of panic as I considered what new story he might be reading.

I snagged a piece of toast and took the seat beside him. "How was your appointment with Archie?"

He shrugged, his eyes never leaving the book. "Good. He recommended that I start a journal to help process everything that happened in Neverland."

I picked at the bread in my hands, wanting to know more, but hesitant to push. "Do you think it would help?"

He shrugged again as he flipped a page in the book. "I don't know. I told him I was fine."

I placed my hand over his, halting his reading, or his avoiding…whatever it was he was doing. "And are you?"

His innocent hazel eyes were quiet and considering as he finally met my gaze. As it often was with Henry, I got the impression I was encountering a soul much older than his actual eleven years. A firm, resolute smile appeared on his face. "Yeah, I'll be okay. Don't worry." He leaned over to hug me before slamming the book shut and heading to gather his school supplies.

"I'm not so sure about that, kid," I mumbled under my breath as I stood and stretched. I wouldn't push – not yet – but whether he was aware of it or not, the subject of Neverland was far from closed.

The water cut off and Mary Margaret began drying her hands as she turned to face me. She wore a practiced smile meant to entice others to trust her. "How was your date?"

_My date_. How _was_ my date? My date had been nearly perfect, and then it all went to hell in a hand basket. _Do people even use that expression anymore, Emma?_ "Fine." I offered her a tight-lipped grin. "How did things go with Gold?" I returned fire. Deflection was always the best weapon.

Her eyes narrowed marginally but the smile never slipped. Damn, she was good. "Good! It was really good. He thinks he can have the cure done by the end of the week. I will be so relieved when all this Neverland business is behind us."

I whole-heartedly agreed with her, but I couldn't shake the paranoia I'd adopted since moving to Storybrooke that feared another new disaster would follow as soon as the most recent one was resolved. "That's great news," I replied. "So, where's David?"

"He's getting ready. He had a bit of a…late night." She cleared her throat.

I _so_ did not want to further investigate that statement. Thank goodness for small mercies, but I'd surprisingly drifted off to sleep almost as soon as I'd gotten home. I moved to the couch and tucked my legs underneath me, reaching for the morning paper. As Sheriff, I tried to make it my regular business to know what was happening in town, at least as often as I could call my day 'regular.' The past few days had been slow, but it was only the third morning since we'd all returned from Neverland. Drama was bound to pick up again at any moment.

"I'm going to drop Henry off at school before checking in at the station." David entered the room, hair slightly damp. He stopped by Mary Margaret's side and offered her a quick kiss. "Pick you up in about an hour?"

She grinned and squeezed his arm. "I'll be ready."

I found it a bit odd when David merely nodded in my direction – almost purposefully avoiding eye contact – before escaping out the door. I wanted to ask what they were up to, but was distracted by Henry's return. He'd already put on his coat and backpack. "Hey, you sure you're up for going back so soon?"

"Yeah, sure. It will be nice for things to be normal again."

I smiled at him, though I suspected he knew it was just for show. I reached out to straighten the collar of his jacket. "Ok, Kid. Be good. Learn a lot." He grinned cheekily – showing some of that pre-Neverland spark – before following David from the loft.

Mary Margaret stepped into my field of vision and set a cup of hot chocolate with a cinnamon stick on the coffee table. "Thanks," I said as I picked up the mug. She assessed me silently. Waiting. I gave her a side-glance which more than implied I knew she had something to say.

"You know you can talk to me, right? I mean, we were good friends before the curse broke. I miss that." She sighed wistfully.

The cocoa mug made a dull noise as I set it on the coaster. "Sure. We're still friends."

"But it's different now?"

I exhaled and thought for a few moments. "It's never been easy for me to open up to anyone. When I found out that you're my mom, it didn't _really_ change our friendship, except that now I sometimes feel like you'll be disappointed in the choices I make. And, with us being the same age and all, it _is_ different."

Her hand came out to rest on mine. "Oh, Emma. I could never be disappointed in you."

I shook my head. "I know you think that, but I've already seen it when it comes to our views on relationships." I paused. "See, I want to be able to tell you about my date, but until I've figured things out for myself, I'm hesitant to discuss details of what I'm feeling because _if_ I decide he's it for me, then the fact that you're my mom _will_ play a role, and I don't want to say anything which might further hurt your perception of him."

She looked a bit shocked by my long-winded response. It was rare that I divulged so much. "Did he do something to upset you last night?" She finally asked with concern, likely responding to the end of my statement.

Shaking my head again I smiled a bit sadly. "No. Quite the opposite in fact."

"Then why…" Her voice trailed off and she pulled her hand back to her lap. I really had no idea what she was going to say. Hell, I didn't even know what _I_ was doing. I picked up the cocoa again – more for a diversion than anything else – and felt my emotions spiraling into confusion once more.

We were interrupted by the soft ping of my phone alert. A new text message read: _"The furst raid i led with the jolly yielded us four goats a stack if moldy blankets and one keg of rancid rum. Needless to say my pirate sjills increased tremendiskly over the years."_

His texting was improving – somewhat – though someone needed to teach him the art of abbreviations. And lord help us if he discovered emoticons. I laughed sharply as a stab of bittersweet joy unfurled in my chest. Like the earlier memory he'd shared, this slice of his past would seem trivial to an ordinary observer, but to me, it was the true stripping of his soul.

"What's so funny?" Mary Margaret inquired.

I thought about brushing it off as nothing, but decided it could help her see beyond Captain Hook. "It's Hook. Killian. He's been sending me texts. Telling me stories about his early years."

Her eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hairline. "Hook's texting?"

I laughed again. "Yeah. I gave him a cell phone last night and apparently someone taught him how to use it after I left."

She was quiet. Thoughtful. "You love him, don't you." It wasn't a question.

I shrugged. "I don't really know him yet."

Her hand covered mine again and I met her gaze. I'd inherited her eyes though hers had always been more hopeful. This time, her smile was genuine. "I know this isn't easy for you. The best things in life rarely are. I don't pretend to know everything you're feeling, but you owe it to yourself to go after happiness if you think you might have found it."

"But it's not that simple. I have Henry –"

" – who just happens to be the truest believer. I can't imagine there is anyone who would be more willing to see the best in others than him."

My lips curved wryly. "So you're done trying to play matchmaker with me and Neal?"

She patted my hand. I expected her to laugh, but her eyes just grew more serious. "It was never simply about preferring Neal over Hook. I care about _you_. I will support what _you_ want. Whoever that may be." She stood and took our mugs to the kitchen, leaving me with even more to think about.

My phone alert pinged again. _"Despite clains to the contrary i have always preferred threats to outright violence. It is true that I took ruffios life but i nearly died from the wounds he struck first."_

The tone of this message was different from the others. The first memories spoke of his humanity; that despite living for as long as he had, and crossing so many realms, he was still at his core just a man who made mistakes and once upon a time, an idealistic child. With this newest glimpse, he neither apologized nor bragged about one of his purported villainous acts. He was owning the fact that he had killed people. What did it say about me that were it not for having a son to think about, I wouldn't have cared in the least?

"So what are your plans today?" Mary Margaret asked. She was gathering her phone and keys for her purse.

"I suppose I'd better head in to work. You? Are you planning to keep teaching?" I realized we'd never really discussed if there would still be a Miss Blanchard. Our disasters had been non-stop since the curse broke, so it was the first chance to really consider what our respective futures might be.

"I haven't decided. I do love teaching, but I feel almost like I have a responsibility to more than just the kids of Storybrooke." She looked wistful. Even after spending weeks in the Enchanted Forest with her, I was still a bit shell-shocked when I saw her in her 'queen' mode. "But I don't have to decide that quite yet. Today, David and I are meeting with a realtor. We think it's best if we start looking for our own place."

"You don't have to – " I began but she cut me off graciously.

"We really do. We may be family, but you don't need your parents living with you. Not anymore." Her admission was noticeably sad, but I could see that she truly believed it. When she continued, her expression changed abruptly. "We'll find someplace close with enough extra bedrooms for Henry to stay over sometimes. You know, if you need some 'alone' time." She wiggled her eyebrows and waved as she left. "See you tonight!"

The loft was suddenly annoyingly quiet. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been alone. My attention drifted back to the phone in my hand. The debate over whether to respond reignited in my brain. He'd sent me four messages already and had received nothing but silence from me in return. Granted, he might not know that in texting culture it was hardly a good thing for messages to go unanswered, but I didn't want him to stop. Though, I still had absolutely no idea what to say. _How 'bout I miss you_, my thoughts supplied. True as it might be, it wasn't the mixed-message I wanted to send. What kind of woman would I be if I begged for space hours before, then turned around and played games like that?

I thought about his final message. Last night I had thrown his past deeds in his face, and yet here he was inviting more criticism. I'd give it to him; it took balls, or an immense amount of trust to open himself up to more judgment. And so far, I hadn't given him a lot of reasons for trusting me aside from the bond.

My hand moved to cover my heart, suddenly realizing the bond had been unusually tame that morning. Aside from the dream, I hadn't really felt any foreign emotions since I'd driven away from him last night. The tingle of anxiety creeping across my skin accompanied my confusion over what might have changed. Was he alright? Was the bond wearing off? Realizing I had the means of finding out, I carefully typed, _"Are you ok?"_

It was hardly poetry or a deep, dark confession of the soul, but it was an opening. I waited for five minutes, staring at the little screen before wondering whether whoever showed him how to _send_ a message thought to show him how to _open_ a message, too. I sighed and placed the phone on the coffee table before heading into the bathroom to get ready for the day. It didn't occur to me until much later that I could've just called him, though I'm not sure I would've had the guts to do it.

**E&K&E&K&E&K**

As predicted, the police station was almost as quiet as the empty loft had been. It was like déjà vu from two days before, only this time my body wasn't raging uncontrollably for the sex–on –legs pirate docked a few blocks away. _That's not exactly true, Emma_, that annoying voice supplied. Fine. I still wanted that _**dashing rapscallion**_, but I held the reins on my libido this time.

Killian had texted me three times since the confession about Ruffio. The tone of each had turned increasingly introspective. He'd never replied to my weak attempt at engaging him in conversation. I chose to believe that was because he was still unfamiliar with the phone's technology. Though, with practice, he'd apparently mastered the art of composing messages.

"_Even in my darkest hours, I find a peaceful respite in observing the majesty of colors painted on the horizon before the first appearance of the day's sun."_

"_I believed I was truly prepared to be a father to Baelfire. I've never forgiven myself for the choice I made against him."_

"_I have dreamed of having my own child one day, but did not believe for the longest time that I deserved such a treasure."_

My heart had clenched somewhat uncomfortably with the last one. Once again, he was giving me what I asked for. He was letting me know him through the only method I'd left him to use. And in spite of how impersonal texting usually was, this felt almost exactly like standing in the Echo Cave, stripped bare and forced to reveal secrets before we were ready. I wanted to text him back, to plead with him to stop, or at least slow down. But I couldn't. His words – his secrets – were addictive.

When the alert sounded again, I nearly leapt out of my chair to grab my phone, unashamedly greedy for whatever tidbit he would share next. When I read his message, a gasp escaped my lips. _"I never felt entirely comfortable taking Milah away from her family. The first time I saw you, you made me revisit those feelings of doubt and selfishness. You are more a savior than you know."_

Again, I considered calling him, but what purpose would it serve? Whatever words that came out of my mouth the next time we had a conversation were not things that should be said over the phone. I wanted to see his eyes when I asked him to explain these messages. I wanted him to see that no matter how afraid I was to let him in all the way, I didn't want to lose him entirely.

My feet seemed to make the decision for me. I'd put on my coat and walked to the door without even noticing the actions. I bumped into a wiry figure just as I stepped across the threshold. "Gold!" I exclaimed as I righted my balance. "Sorry, I'm in kind of a hurry."

"It's quite alright, Miss Swan." He cocked his head at me, assessing my obvious distress. "Is everything alright? No problems with the _bond_ I hope?"

My eyes narrowed. How the hell did he always manage to hit the nail directly on the head? "What?" I tried for ignorance.

His eyes shifted to the pavement before meeting mine again. "I had quite the visit from Bae this morning. He rather believes I forged this union between you and the pirate on purpose. I must say I am somewhat disappointed that you haven't set the record straight yet, Sheriff."

"I told Neal it was my doing."

"But have you told yourself that, Dearie?" He grinned. "Tell me, have there been any unusual side effects? I am interested from a purely _magical_ standpoint, of course." He waved his hand in emphasis.

"Of course," I echoed, not liking the sudden flair of my lie-detector. I considered answering him with a lie of my own, but I _was_ curious about the dreams. "It seems in addition to sharing feelings we might be able to share memories, too."

"Fascinating," he replied. His grin widened. "Though, I can't say I envy the memories you might be receiving from the dear Captain."

I didn't respond. I felt my face shut down into my best poker face.

"Yes, well, I won't keep you. Do consider clearing up any lingering confusion with my son, won't you?" He continued on his way without a backward glance.

As I watched his retreating back, I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket. Pulling it out quickly, I realized it was an actual call. My anticipation crested and fell as I recognized the number. "David, hi," I answered a bit breathlessly.

"Hey, Emma. It seems Snow and I will be caught up with the realtor a bit longer than planned. Will you be able to pick up Henry from school?"

"Of course. Are you having any luck?"

"Trying to get rid of us? I see how it is," he laughed. "Actually, we're looking at a place that's only a block from the apartment. It has four bedrooms and a yard. I'll let your mother tell you the rest of the details if we end up with it." I could hear him yawn over the line.

"Sounds like a plan. Hey, Mary Margaret said you had a late night, was there some kind of trouble?" My Sheriff side took over.

"Nah, not really. Got a call to come down to the Rabbit Hole to deal with a lonely drunk. You know how it is."

_The Rabbit Hole?_ I immediately wanted to launch into questions about whether or not Hook was still there and what he was doing, but that wasn't the kind of conversation I had with David. With my dad. Yeah.

"Sorry they bothered you with it. I'm not sure everyone remembers they elected me Sheriff, what with me being gone in the Enchanted Forest for so long."

"Don't worry about it. Happy to help. But, I've got to go for now. Talk more at dinner?"

"Yeah, sure," I replied before we disconnected. I absently checked for more text messages and almost ignored the nudge of disappointment when my inbox was empty. Almost.

I looked toward the direction of the docks, making out the tallest part of the Jolly Roger's mast in the distance. I couldn't help but wonder what he was doing. He'd dominated my thoughts all day, well, the past few days actually. But my plan for ambushing him would have to be put on hiatus now that I needed to meet Henry. Perhaps this was fate's way of intervening. My feet had carried me out the door before I'd made the conscious decision of what I wanted to say to him, which could've ended in disaster.

I slowly made my way toward Henry's school. The weather was crisp and cool; perfect for walking and reflecting. Mary Margaret's earlier words replayed in my mind. She had a point about Henry. I wanted to protect him, but he'd be the first to give Killian a chance. Hadn't he already done that on the Jolly Roger as we headed home from Neverland? Not that Henry was always the best judge of character – Peter Pan sprung to mind.

I caught the sight of a familiar set of shoulders encased in black leather as I passed Granny's window and my heart literally skipped. Quickly, I stepped back so that my body was out of view, but I could still peek in. He was alone at the counter. A nearly empty glass of beer sat before him. A tremor of guilt mixed with despondency rippled across our link. His head turned marginally in my direction and I ducked completely out of sight.

_What the hell are you doing, Emma?_ My inner voice raged. I felt like I was twelve years old again, hiding from my crush. But this was not a crush. This was a full-grown man who had shown me – somewhat painstakingly – that he was just as, if not more, invested in this as me. Why was I still afraid? True, I wanted to protect Henry, but I could still do that and figure out if Killian would be in our future. We'd have to do it together. There was no other way.

I took a deep, slow breath and turned back. Glancing at the time on my phone, I saw I still had twenty minutes before school let out. As my hand wrapped around the handle, I readied myself for a conversation which just might be the start of my future life. _And what will your future hold?_ I wondered.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Hmmm, just what WILL Emma's future hold? This sort of feels like we are coming to the end, BUT, what if I told you we were only a little past half way? Let me hear you send Emma words of encouragement that she can trust our dashing rapscallion. :D

Apparently, the new special calls attention to the OBVIOUS feels directed from Emma to Hook in Dark Hollow. I knew I was on to something... ;)

Next update hopefully in a few days, unless of course I don't survive the CS feels during tomorrow's 3B premiere.


	11. Parental Guidance

**A/N:** This chapter is dedicated to our beloved Killian in the sneak peeks for 3x13 and those of us desperate to see him get some positive affirmation. Also, to my wonderful readers who are ready for Emma to come to the 'correct' decision. ;)

There are several references (inside jokes) to things from the OUAT canon in this chapter…if you are not as familiar with the details of the show, feel free to ask questions if anything seems confusing. Also, it is a pleasing coincidence that some of the events parallel the real show; I've had this planned out since early February - well before I knew what was going to happen. Enjoy!

**Chapter 11**

**Parental Guidance**

I let my hand drop a split second before my brain was about to give the order to open the door to Granny's. Instead, I reached into my pocket and took out my phone. My eyes glanced at Killian – making sure he was staying put – as I quickly typed out a message. Then, I mentally counted to ten before following through with my original intent.

I had the strangest sensation that I'd stepped into a hidden camera show as I entered the diner. The weight of everyone's eyes turning to inspect me was almost as heavy as the abrupt silencing of their conversations. I knew it was a small town and word spread fast, but damn.

Ignoring the other patrons, I tugged at the bottom of my coat before squaring my shoulders and walking up behind Killian. His attention was fixated on the phone in his hand, so he appeared not to notice my approach. He wore an odd mix of new and old: black v-neck shirt, dark jeans and his usual leather coat and boots. Every inch that brought me closer to him set that magical connection vibrating at a higher pitch, or was it just that my awareness snapped back into focus now that he mentally _and_ physically occupied my thoughts?

His entire face started to react to my presence – lips tilted upwards, eyes brightened, brow quirked – before he quickly reset to his mask of measured caution. "In need of the pirate, eh Swan?"

I kept my gaze locked on his as I reached over and took his cell from his fingers, willing my body to ignore the tingle of pleasure elicited from his skin touching mine. Showing him the screen, I demonstrated the steps for opening his messages. As I'd thought, he'd been starting a new conversation each time he texted me, so my messages – and interestingly enough, one from David – sat unopened in his inbox. "Texting works both ways. You haven't read my message to you."

A glimmer of hope flamed brightly in his sea-blue eyes before being swiftly blanketed by trepidation as he turned to read the words I'd typed only minutes before. That I'd even momentarily caused him such worry dug at my heart, though hopefully, it would be the last pain I intentionally caused him. As he took in my message, relief chased that halting expression from his face.

"_I had two secrets in Echo Cave. The one I didn't share was how terrified I was of the way you made me start to hope. I'm still scared, but I want that hope. More than ever."_

When our eyes met again, I knew the scales were likely tipped forever. My pulse tripped over itself in its desire to coil around his absolute perfect faith in our love. "Emma…I can't…I feel…" he shook his head as that shy smile broadcasted his overwhelming emotion. "I need to be alone with you," he whispered, impressively aware of the other diners.

"I know. I feel it, too." I smiled, thinking about how he'd said the same to me not even two full days ago. "But, now isn't the right time. Not yet. I just needed you to know that I'm listening." I handed his phone back to him. "And that I don't want you to stop making me know you."

"There are much more expedient ways to uncover whatever you wish to have of me than that infernal little device, love." He cocked his brow and I suppressed a laugh.

"But you're getting so good at it," I quipped, my own brow raised in challenge.

I was rewarded with one of his gleaming smirks. "As if there were any doubt. I am a man of many skills."

The sudden clearing of a throat preceded the appearance of Granny. Her casual head nod drew my attention to the very interested observers doing a piss poor job of minding their own business. This was definitely one of those moments when I missed the solace of an anonymous existence. Killian and I assessed each other quietly, the levity of the moment helped to mend some of the raw emotion hanging between us, but I knew our path together still had a long climb ahead. "I'm sorry," I mouthed, speaking so softly I'm not sure he even heard me.

"I know," he replied at the same level. He held my gaze captive for a long moment and what could only be described as a healing balm spread through our link.

"I have to pick up Henry. I'm going to talk to him tonight. Maybe after, you and I can have a talk of our own?" I suggested as I stood.

"Are you asking me on another of your dates?" He couldn't hide the slight incredulity in his tone or expression as he stood to face me fully.

"Maybe. I mean, there are so many other clichés we've yet to experience," I replied deadpan, though his nearness was starting to overload my circuitry. The leather of his jacket brushed against the back of my hand and I wanted nothing more than to slip it under the cotton of his shirt to feel the contours of his lean abdomen. My eyes strayed to his perfect lips just in time to witness the emergence of his wicked tongue coming out to moisten them. I swallowed and his expression shifted. Awareness dawned in his eyes and he stepped forward marginally. He knew I was caught in his spell.

Granny cleared her throat louder and I stepped back. "I'll call you," I mumbled as I started for the door. "Stay out of trouble," I added for good measure.

"As you wish, love," I heard him reply just as I slipped through the door.

My footsteps unconsciously matched the rhythm of my still pounding heartbeat as I walked purposefully toward the school. It was a solid two blocks before the fog that is Killian Jones' affect on me cleared enough for my thoughts to start scrambling. I could scarcely believe what I'd just done. That text was so out of character for me, but I didn't regret it, even if I knew I wouldn't have been able to actually say the words to his face. God bless modern technology.

My phone chirped as soon as I reached the school and I didn't even try to hide the hopeful smile rising to my face. Examining my text inbox, I saw his reply to my message:

"_I've not the words to express the joy your secret has inspired. I will endeavor to soothe your fears and tender your hope for the rest of our days if you let me. Until later, my love."_

Suddenly, my own confession – as brave as it had felt at the time – was entirely eclipsed by Killian's declaration. If I'd been afraid of hope before, I was now ready to trap it and chain it to my side.

Henry found me moments later, the stunned expression no doubt still decorating my face. "Hey, Kid; how was your day?" I managed to ask, trying to be as normal as possible.

He peered at me, quite clearly assessing my mood. "Interesting."

I blinked slowly and tucked my phone back into my pocket. "How so?" I responded as we started on the short walk toward home.

"Did you go on a date with Captain Hook last night?"

My pulse spiked as my head whipped in his direction. I hadn't even considered that the rumor mill would spin just as quickly with Storybrooke's youngest residents. I studied Henry's face for a sign of his feelings, sighing with measured relief as his lips twitched in amusement. "Sort of," I started cautiously. "What do you think about him?"

He tilted his head. "I think he's pretty cool. I mean, now that he's on our side and all."

It amazed me how trusting Henry was even after the events of Neverland. Sure, I was certainly trusting Hook a lot more lately, but Henry hadn't really interacted all that much with him. "How can you be so sure?" I challenged.

He snorted. "Easy. Your superpower. If you trust him than so can I." A thoughtful expression crossed his face before he looked over at me again. "So, is he like your boyfriend now?"

I hedged. "I don't know. I wanted your opinion before I made any decisions."

"But you like him?" He asked softly.

"Yes."

He nodded slightly. "Do you love him?"

I nearly coughed and stopped walking completely. His face was a mixture of hope and curiosity. "It's not always that simple, Kid."

"Sure it is. If he's the one that your heart wants, and he wants to be with you, too, then you should be together," he spoke with a resolution reserved for only the truest of believers. "You deserve to find your happiness." He stepped ahead of me and waited by the entrance to the apartment building.

"**When did you get so wise?"** I muttered, unlocking the door and following him up the stairs.

He grinned but stayed silent, understanding it was a rhetorical question. Smart kid.

With David and Mary Margaret gone, the apartment retained a bit of that unnatural quiet I'd experienced hours early. Luckily, Henry didn't stay silent for long. He dropped his book bag on the table before getting himself a glass of milk. After chugging the contents – boys – he decided to reopen our conversation. "Have you told my Dad?"

"Told him what?" I sucked at playing innocent. _Remember who you're talking to, Emma! _As if hearing my internal monologue, Henry simply stared at me. I sighed. "He knows."

When he spoke again, his voice was softer, more hesitant. "I bet he was pretty mad."

I moved to stand by him and placed my palm on his shoulder. "If he was, it's not anything you need to be worried about. As wise as you are, some things are grown-up stuff. You know you've got a lot of people who love and care about you, your Dad and I included, right?"

Henry smiled. The first true, full-fledged smile I'd seen on his face since we returned from Neverland. "I know. I still can't believe you all put aside your differences to save me."

"Believe it, Kid. You're worth it." Caught up in the moment, I ruffled his hair affectionately and pulled him to me for a hug. "You'll always come first."

His smile remained as he pulled back. "I think Dad will get over it. I was reading a new story this morning and I think it's only a matter of time before he finds his true love, too."

_Hold on, too!?_ "Oh, and why's that?" I asked, choosing not to pick at his turn of phrase. He was probably just referring to Mary Margaret and David, anyways.

"I haven't quite figured it all out yet. But I think it's someone we haven't met yet." He shrugged and moved to pick up his bag. "I'll keep you updated on the details. But, for now, I've got homework." He pretended to groan and disappeared upstairs.

I poured myself a glass of water and relaxed on the sofa, looking out the window at the gathering clouds over the town. Without any distractions, my thoughts were free to drift from topic to topic, yet they insisted on settling on Killian. Or rather, Henry and Killian. Henry had been my last outpost, my last line of defense against giving the pirate a chance. With his blessing, I really was out of excuses.

I yawned and stretched out along the cushions. The soft patter of rain sounded on the roof and against the glass panes of the living room windows. I closed my eyes and let my subconscious take the reins, content to seize this moment of perfect accord and just…be.

**E&K&E&K&E&K**

_The scruff of his beard bristled against the tender flesh of my thigh as he placed feather-light kisses higher and higher on my skin. His tongue flicked out to trace the path his lips had made, stopping with the tip of his nose nestled in the short curls at the juncture of my thighs. He breathed deeply and moaned, setting my core ablaze with frantic desire His hand moved from where it rested over my breast and slid down to spread my lower lips. One long finger swept through the gathered wetness before circling over that spot which ached for him in almost tortuous want. My own fingers twisted into his dark locks of hair, urging him to settle where I needed him most._

A loud bang jolted me awake. My breaths came in heavy pants and unresolved lust coursed through my veins, making my heart pound and my head a bit dizzy. I smoothed my hands through my hair and tried to orient myself to the conscious world.

"We're home," David's booming voice called through the open door. "And we've got company."

I turned reflexively to David's pronouncement, though I was admittedly only half-listening until my brain recognized who it was sauntering in behind my parents. "Killian!" I snapped into action, bolting from the couch and straightening my shirt. The lingering desire from the apparent dream he'd just starred in flickered at his presence.

"Long time no see, love." He winked. And grinned. And he was soaking wet. _Damn him_.

"We found him walking through town in this downpour, and thought it would be nice if we all sat down to dinner together," Mary Margaret commented oh-so-helpfully as she shook off her own wet coat.

My eyes refused to leave his person. His dark hair was somewhat flattened to his head, tiny beads of water trickling down his fair skin. I had a sudden errant thought about using my tongue to wipe them away. "How nice of you," I responded a bit woodenly; my mind too occupied to be bothered with language.

"Lend a man a dry cloth, would you lass?" He spoke directly to me, his own sapphire eyes penetrating beyond the simplicity of his words. The connection forged between us sprang as tightly as a well-oiled trap with just as many implications.

"Um, yeah, sure. Be right back." I forced my feet to move and made my way to the second floor bathroom. I rested my head against the cool, tile wall and ordered my body to calm down. _What the hell was he doing here?_ I knew I wasn't really angry, but being yanked from that kind of dream only to encounter the object of my desire with my parents as a buffer? Yeah, kind of makes a girl cranky.

With one more cleansing breath, I grabbed the first towel I saw and turned to head back to the stairs only to run straight into a pair of solid arms. Killian pushed me back into the room and closed the door behind us. His mouth was on mine before I could take another breath. Every cell in my body trembled in pleasure at the touch of his lips – it had felt like twenty-four days, not hours since we'd connected – but my brain was surprisingly still aware of where we were.

I shoved him away, panting again. "Are you crazy? Henry's room is right next door and my parents-"

"-are the same age as you, love. Not to mention just as insatiable if the tension radiating between them is any indication. I've missed you, Swan." He leaned in toward me again, and lord help me I let him. His kisses had the unique ability to render me both sated and hungry. The taste of him alone was quickly addicting me, but when his hand cradled my head to hold me to him, I felt more cherished and wanted – just from a simple kiss – than I'd ever felt in my life.

I pulled back hesitantly, mourning the loss of his lips as soon as we parted. Licking my own unconsciously, I took in our appearance. His heavy coat had protected most of his clothes, though the soaked fabric of his cotton shirt and the droplets clinging to his exposed skin had done a number on my blouse. "You're getting me all wet."

The devil was in his eyes. "Oh I do hope so, Swan."

I slapped at his chest and thrust the towel at him, feeling the telltale red shading my face. "Dry off, Captain; and remember whose house you're in." His deep chuckle did nothing to assuage my blush. "Give me a few minutes before you follow me. You can hang your coat over the shower rod to dry."

_Incorrigible pirate!_ I shook my head as I made my way to my room, pulling on a sweater to cover the watermark left by our embrace. _You wouldn't want him any other way and you know it._ I didn't justify my thoughts with a response.

I passed David in the hall as I headed back to the main floor. "Here. I thought Hook might want a dry shirt." He held out a blue long-sleeved shirt, and I did not miss the way his gaze lingered on my own change of attire.

"He's in the bathroom. You can take it to him." I smiled and stepped to the stairs before he could argue. No, this fly would _not_ step into the spider's parlor again no matter how tempting the idea seemed.

Mary Margaret was busy stirring something on the stove when I returned to the kitchen. Her face possessed the oddest little contented smile. "What are you doing?" I asked quietly.

"Getting dinner ready," she replied swiftly. My eyes narrowed. We were both well aware that my question held a heavier meaning.

"Yeah, I can see that. I meant Hook. Why is he here?" I suppose I didn't exactly mean to sound so upset by the situation, but suspicious? Yeah, suspicious would do.

She moved to the counter and started finely chopping an onion. "I told you. We passed him on our way home. He was walking to his ship. We offered him a ride, but then I thought it would be kind of nice if we all got to know each other better, you know, given our talk this morning."

I frowned, but couldn't really comment with the appearance of all three boys. I was immediately drawn to Henry's laughter, seemingly in response to something Killian had said. The two of them were standing side-by-side, grinning like fools. "What's so funny?" I asked more gently than I felt.

Henry snickered. "Hook was just telling me his opinions about our modern clothing."

"Well, lad, I hardly see the protective benefit of such insubstantial fabric, and forgive me for being dubious at allowing a fastening which quite resembles metallic crocodile's teeth so close to my…sensitive bits."

My eyes flicked to the pirate in question, widening at the impact of seeing him in a blue which matched his impossible eyes. _Focus, Emma!_ "Yes, we all know how you feel about crocodiles."

His lips twitched, but he let it drop. "Something smells most appetizing, milady. Might I inquire as to our evening meal?" Killian stepped nearer to where Mary Margaret had just added the chopped onion and a seasoning mix to the pan on the stove.

"We're having tacos. Do you like spicy things?" She replied in a far too chipper tone. David and I both coughed. Once again, I was reminded that my mother – the supposed epitome of innocence and grace – was just as wily as the next modern woman.

"I can't say I've had the opportunity to experience much variety of the pallet given my history, but I suspect I am in for a treat with your cooking, milady."

I rolled my eyes at his overt courtly manner, but Mary Margaret was already wise to him.

"Thank-you, and I think it's okay for you to call me Mary Margaret, or Snow. We're not in the Enchanted Forest anymore, and even if we were, I'd like to think we're all friends now?"

He bowed his head slightly. "I'd like that as well, Mary Margaret."

I felt like I was standing in a really surreal dream. Did my mother just make nice with the pirate? Could she be more obvious in her attempt to welcome him to the family? I had no frame of reference to process my feelings. I'd never even considered what it would be like to bring a boy home to meet the parents, let alone the parents picking up the boy to help him court their daughter!

I cleared my throat again and turned back to Henry. "Help me set the table?" He nodded and headed for the condiments while I gathered the dishes.

"Care for a beer, Hook?" David asked from behind the refrigerator door.

"Thanks, mate. I dare say this is a much better occasion to share a drink than the last time."

The fridge door snapped shut, matching the abrupt way I slammed the plate in my hands to the tabletop. "Wait, so you _were_ the reason David got called to the Rabbit Hole?"

He held his hand and hook gently before him in supplication. "What can I say, love, it had been a very trying evening."

David opened the three bottles he'd taken, and passed one to me and one to Killian before tilting his own toward us in silent cheers. His eyes flicked gently toward Henry, noting the interest with which my son was observing our every word and interaction. "To new _friends_," he emphasized.

"To new friends," we echoed, though I'm sure David knew I wasn't done with our discussion about him keeping secrets from me. If he'd been with Killian last night, then he must have been the one teaching him the art of texting. _So basically, my Dad is Hook's wingman?_ I just shook my head.

"Let's eat!" Mary Margaret exclaimed, setting the fixings for soft-shell tacos on the counter. "How do take yours?" She asked Hook, either fulfilling her role as hostess and mom, or genuinely realizing how challenging it would be for someone with one hand to make tacos. _Well, he is a man of many skills, Emma_. My mind was officially in the gutter. If I could've mentally slapped myself I would've.

"I leave it to your good taste, as I've never enjoyed this particular fare."

_Oh my god, so not helping!_ A quick check out of the corner of my eyes revealed David's mind was just as deeply rolling in the innuendos as mine was; only he seemed to be enjoying my immense discomfort rather than being victim to it. "I'll just make double of mine," I mumbled, hastily throwing together a plate of food and taking a seat. Killian sat down next to me – naturally – and I moved two of the tacos onto his plate.

"So, tell us about the house you found," I asked, settling on a neutral topic. I hoped the accusation in my eyes made it clear to my parents that I was on to their joint efforts of getting me hooked to the man beside me, pun most definitely intended.

"It's perfect! It's an old Victorian just past the B&B with four bedrooms and a large backyard. The owner said it's available to rent immediately, and if we like it, we can think about buying in the future."

"You guys are moving?" Henry asked around a mouthful of food.

"We'll be just down the road. This apartment is great, but it's a bit crowded. You can come visit us anytime. In fact, there's a tree in the backyard that's just begging for a tree house." David explained with his most reassuring tone.

"Cool," Henry commented, seemingly more interested in his dinner than the conversation as he piled on more sour cream.

My eyes drifted to the unusually quiet man next to me. He held one of the tacos in his hand, a touch of confusion on his face. I picked up my own and took a bite, not so slyly demonstrating for him.

That displaced, standing-outside-of-myself feeling returned as I watched Captain Hook sample his first taste of Mexican food while dining with my family in our home. I'd experienced many bizarre things since that fateful night when Henry had dragged me kicking and screaming into this fairy-tale existence. But never – not even in my _wildest_ dreams – did I imagine that I'd find such peace aside some of Disney's most famous characters, or that I'd start falling in love with this pirate-turned-hero.

A hum of delight sounded from him as he swallowed his first bite. His sinful tongue licked along his bottom lip, catching some of the sauce. "Delicious, Mary Margaret. Highest compliments to the chef." He then turned to me, the puzzled look once again gracing his perfect face. "Something wrong, Swan?"

"Huh?" I replied stupidly. He gestured toward my food. Sauce was dripping down my hand from where I held the falling-apart taco aloft, completely forgotten. "Oh," I cleared my throat, set down my food and reached for a napkin. "It's fine. I guess I'm just not that hungry." _Not for food, anyways._

The slight tug of the corner of his mouth gave him away. I suspected he knew what had distracted me, but was wise enough to let it rest, given the company we kept. He returned to eating, making it into a performance of sorts with the lazy way he moved his jaw and the intermittent swipe of that devil tongue. When his leg shifted to press against the length of mine, I realized he wasn't letting it rest at all. He was just playing the game in a more underhanded, _pirate_ sort of way.

_Two can play this game,_ I promised. I waited until Mary Margaret and David had engaged Henry in a discussion about what type of tree house they should build before making a move. I reached over the table for the salad bowl, letting my thigh rub fully against Killian's. A shiver of feeling crossed our link and I bit back a grin. I turned, making sure my arm brushed against his, and spooned some of the mixed greens onto his plate, accidentally letting some of the lettuce drop into his lap. "Oops, sorry," I mouthed. Using my napkin, I plucked the innocent green leaves away, making sure the backs of my knuckles brushed against those 'crocodile teeth' he'd been complaining about earlier before shifting back to focus on my own meal. A slow burn of desire unfurled through my body. I really couldn't tell if it was mine or his, and frankly, I didn't much care at that point.

The conversation between the rest of my family never faltered, though David glanced several times between Killian and I from across the table. I picked up my beer and took a sip, watching as his eyes narrowed and settled on Killian. I could only imagine what expression was currently occupying my pirate's face.

"So, Hook, what are you planning to do now that you're stuck in Storybrooke? Not much call for pirates around here." Henry suddenly asked. I nearly spat out my drink in surprise. Leave it to my eleven year old to start the interrogation.

Killian seemed to straighten in his seat, his leg moving away from mine. "To be honest, I haven't much thought about it. I am still quite the fish out of water in this land of yours, so I'm not sure what occupations are available to one such as I."

Mary Margaret's face turned thoughtful. "You don't have to figure things out right away. We're all still a bit out of sorts." I suspected she was reminiscing about our conversation that morning.

"Being a pirate I bet you've got lots of treasure, right?" Henry asked animatedly.

Killian smirked. "I've amassed a fair amount," he reached for his own drink, clearly more comfortable with this question. "…though, I've yet to discover its value in this realm."

"I think you'll find gold holds its value no matter the realm," I commented drily, thinking back to the coin he'd gifted me with.

"Do you think we could go back out on the Jolly Roger sometime? I was just starting to get the hang of steering the helm," Henry said, his eyes filled with childlike hope.

Killian's smirk softened and a surge of pride swept through our bond. "You'd make a find co-captain, Henry. I believe more lessons could be arranged, provided your mum has no objections?" Blue eyes and hazel eyes both turned to seek my approval.

I nodded my head, "I don't see why not. But you'll have to wait until the weekend."

"Excellent!" Henry exclaimed. "See, maybe you don't have to stop being a pirate after all," he commented to Killian before standing to bring his plate to the sink. "I've still got some homework to finish. See you later, Hook!"

A comfortable silence settled around the table after Henry left. As David and Mary Margaret had said, we _had_ been through a lot together, and I supposed that did warrant a type of friendship. But beyond that, my parents had done everything aside from send out a banner message with a plane to let me know they truly did support my choice in pursuing something with Killian.

"I suppose it is time I took my leave as well. My sincerest gratitude for the meal and the fine company."

"You can't leave yet; it's still pouring!" Mary Margaret objected.

"I'll give you a lift," David chimed in.

"Actually, I had some things I was still working on at the station. I can drop him off before heading back." I interjected. It was a bold-faced lie and all four of us knew it. For once in our strange life together, I was acting exactly like a teenage daughter trying to sneak behind my parents' back. I should've been able to just tell it like it was, – I was going to take Killian home because I wanted to spend more time with him, _alone_ – but I suspected we were all more comfortable hiding behind euphemisms and white lies for now. "Do you mind watching Henry again?"

"Sure, you take all the time you need," Mary Margaret smiled, her eyes darting between me and Killian. Yep. I was definitely the teenage daughter in this scenario.

"Thanks," I turned toward Killian, noting the spark of humor and something much more sinful residing on his face. "Are you ready?"

"Aye, love. Let me just retrieve my coat and we can be on our way."

"I'll get it," I said as I headed for the stairs. Once in the bathroom, I quickly brushed my teeth and dabbed a bit of perfume on my pulse points. I grabbed Killian's coat, inhaling the thick scent of leather and sea that I'd come to attribute to him, and willed my suddenly frantic heart to relax. I'd come to a decision about him – about _us_ – over dinner, and I was ready to see it through. I wanted him; and not just because I'd bound his soul to mine. I wanted more dinners together, more teasing with my parents, those planned weekend sails with Henry. I told him earlier that I wanted hope. I saw that in him. It was time I let myself explore what it meant to hope with Captain Killian Jones.

"Are you coming, Swan?" His voice called up the stairs.

_Oh I certainly hope so_, my conscience purred. "Yes, be right there!" I smiled at my reflection in the mirror, seeing a lightness to my features that had been missing for eleven years. I draped his coat over my arm, snapped off the light, and headed toward what I hoped would be a night that would set the course for our future together.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Thank you again for your support of this story. I cherish your thoughts, and am highly motivated by reviews. *pathetic hint*

Shout-out to **Yettoseeyoufail** for her continued guidance and 'musing' and **OnceUponSomeChaos **for the lovely messages. They are both fabulous authors and you should run to their stories immediately! (Just be sure you come back for Hollow's next update!)

I bet you can guess what's _coming_ next. ;)


	12. Laid Bare

**A/N ;) **

**Chapter 12**

**Laid Bare**

"You're very quiet, Swan," Killian's low voice parted the silence which had descended around us moments after leaving the apartment. The steady hum of my car's engine had been the only noise aside from the pounding of my heartbeat in my ears. The rain which had been the excuse for driving him home in the first place had stopped five minutes into our trip.

"I know," I replied; figuring he deserved as obvious of a response as the statement he'd made.

"Any particular reason?" He drawled. I turned to look at him and smirked at the boyish grin on his voice.

"Just thinking." My smirk grew as I felt his frustration with my non-answers. "That was possibly the strangest, but nicest dinner I've ever had."

He chuckled. "Why did I get the sense I was the unknowing target of a jest between you and your parents?"

"Actually, I think _I_ was the target. You were just the bait." I shook my head, thinking back to Mary Margaret's blatant efforts to bring us together. "They meant well," I conceded.

"If it's any consolation, the experience was just as odd for me. I've never been the sort one wishes to introduce to family, let alone be personally invited to dine with royalty."

"No, I imagine not." My face fell, not in pity, but in empathy. "You know I'll never really think of myself that way, don't you?"

He caressed the rounded edge of his hook over my knee. "Aye, love. I've met a fair share of princesses in my time, and you far surpass them in every manner."

I laughed. "Thanks, but I think you're biased."

"Absolutely," he agreed, "but still honest." I could just make out his wink from the light of the street lamps as I pulled into a spot at the marina. I put the car in park and cut the engine. "Home sweet home," he muttered. There was no mistaking the slight bitterness in his tone.

I reached over and wrapped my hand around his arm, just above where his hook attachment fastened. "Care to invite a princess aboard, Captain?"

He twisted his shoulders to look upon me fully. Once upon a time I would've shied away from the intensity shining in his eyes, no matter who he was. That he was a man who'd done just as he'd promised and won my heart would've been enough for me to push him away for good. I'd certainly tried. But he was also a man who didn't give up. Not on me. Not on us. "If that's what the lady wishes, then I would be most obliging."

Stepping out of the car, I expected to feel the fluttering of nervous anticipation, or even a twinge of hesitation. Instead, the desire which had likely started the moment I first laid eyes on Killian Jones mounted to such a degree that I was amazed I hadn't jumped him in his seat. We'd been stuck in the same dance for weeks. We'd experienced the sweet taste of relief only recently, but it was not enough. Now that I'd thrown up my white flag of surrender, my body was ready to claim him along with the bond my soul had forged.

He set the pace as we crossed the wooden docks to where the Jolly Roger was secured. I'm sure I wasn't imaging the extra sway he placed in his steps, though I wasn't about to complain. He'd yet to put his heavy coat back on, so I was treated to the decidedly wonderful view of his taut backside encased in dark denim.

He held his hand to me as he started up the stairs. It was an unexpected show of gallantry that once again revealed his original nature. I placed my hand in his and let him escort me across the deck, taking in the breath-taking view of the bay. Thousands of stars reflected in the water which seemed almost eerily calm after the tumultuous rainstorm. "Storms always reveal fair weather," he commented, as if reading my mind. I wondered if he knew the deeper meaning of his sentiment.

I turned to look at him and my heart literally ached. It felt too big to live in my chest as though it yearned to live in his, too. "Emma," he breathed. His fingers traced down my cheek. I caught his hand as he began to pull it back and placed it over my heart, just as I'd done once before.

"You win," I whispered. Awareness lit his face by degrees before it broke into the most stunning smile he'd ever bestowed upon me. I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around his waist, tilting my face up to meet his lowering mouth. This kiss was different than those that had come before. While still as intoxicating, it felt charged with the words that may have been left unsaid, but were definitely felt.

My hands moved underneath his shirt to explore the planes of his back before slipping down to run appreciatively over his backside. He nipped at my bottom lip playfully and bucked his hips toward mine. "I am quite sure I've never heard of a princess taking such liberties, love."

"Well you shouldn't flaunt what you're not willing to share," I teased.

His hand stroked down my spine and came to rest on my own butt, squeezing it experimentally. "Good form, Swan," he remarked, his voice as tangible and rich as melted chocolate.

I curled my fingers into his hair and yanked his lips back into a hard kiss. Opening my mouth, my tongue prodded along the seam of his lips until he granted me access. His arms wrapped around my back, and I reveled in being encased by his body. But it wasn't enough. I wanted to feel his skin sliding against my own, to be fully consumed by him and to give him the same pleasure in return. Pulling away from the kiss, I said breathlessly, "This is the part where you take me to bed, Killian."

"As you wish," He rasped. Taking my hand, he led us below deck to his cabin without any further words or hesitation.

As soon as the door closed, I pulled my sweater off and tossed it over the chair by his table. My boots were next. When I moved to take off my shirt, his hand stopped me. "Wait, love. There's no need to rush." He brushed my hair behind my shoulder and touched his lips to my pulse point, then behind my ear. "I intend to fully savor this experience," he whispered as he took my earlobe between his teeth, biting gently and rolling it between his lips. My head fell backwards and he seized the opportunity to smooth kisses down one side of my neck then up the other before returning to my mouth.

My hands slipped underneath the hem of his shirt to stroke his smooth, warm skin. I felt almost desperate to remove all the barriers between us. My body started to tremble with the combination of desire and emotion I felt for him. "Please, I want to see you," I murmured into his ear. I grasped the edge of his shirt and tugged. He stepped back and locked his eyes with mine before taking my hand in his and guiding it to his hook. Together, we twisted it off and he set it aside. Holding his arms open, he simply said, "I'm yours, Emma."

If his eyes were intense before, his current expression nearly brought me to my knees. _I love him_, I thought and meant it. Reaching back to him, I gently lifted the borrowed shirt over his head and let it drop to the floor before setting my gaze on all I'd revealed.

I'd seen him nearly shirtless on two occasions, but this was different. This was a lover's reveal; exposing more than just flesh. His body wasn't perfect, but it was perfect for me. The scar on his ribs marred his skin, and his left arm was encased by the black leather brace used for his prosthetics. He had two tattoos: the heart and dagger I'd seen before, but the mariner's star on his left bicep was a secret surprise. He was real, and that made him beautiful.

Placing my hands on his shoulders, I traced down the defined muscles of his chest and abdomen, relishing in the contours he'd developed over centuries of hard work and the generous dark hair which only enhanced his masculinity. Touching the straps on his left shoulder, my eyes asked silent permission to truly strip him bare. He nodded slowly, perhaps cautiously, and I softly kissed the tattoo just below the leather straps. Loosening the fastenings, I eased the sheath off and caressed each new inch of skin with my fingertips as it was exposed.

I stepped closer and kissed along his collarbone and then his shoulders, letting my nails rake lightly down his naked back. He shivered and tilted my face back to his. Our lips met firmly, Killian's tongue thrusting forward to spar with mine. His hand wrapped around my thigh, lifting it to his waist to better align our hips, before he grunted. "Bloody modern inventions, absolutely unforgiving on my manhood," he grimaced playfully as he pressed said 'problem' against me.

"But so much easier to get off than leather," I sassed, reaching out to unzip his jeans and undo the single button-fly.

He bowed his hips away from my hands. "Easy there, Swan. I do believe it's time to even the score," he chuckled, his voice laced with sin and a hint of something close to amazement. I knew exactly how he was feeling. Adrenalin and need rioted through my veins. Mirroring his earlier motions, I placed a foot of distance between us and held my arms facing up. He smiled and slipped his hand and wrist just beneath the fabric of my shirt, sliding both up along my body and taking my shirt with them. His hand ghosted over my left breast before reaching my shoulder. "Arms up, love." Following his directions, my shirt was soon discarded next to his. His hungry gaze swept over my body much like I'd assessed him, setting tingles of desire marching over my skin as though his eyes were electric. He fondled my bra strap – snapping it against my skin – and his face seemed bemused. It certainly wasn't one my fanciest sets, but at least it was black.

"Next time I'll wear my good stuff," I joked.

He grinned. "Darling, the only care I have for the state of your frocks is how swiftly they reach my floor." His expression turned serious again as his hand trailed from my neck to my navel. "You are truly beautiful, Emma. I have no idea what I've done to deserve to see you this way."

I caught his hand and kissed his fingers. "You didn't give up." I reached behind my back and unclasped my bra, letting it drop without any uncertainty. Taking his hand again, I placed it on my naked chest, feeling my nipple harden against his palm. The blue of his eyes was eclipsed by dark desire as his hand worked to massage first one breast, then the other. I moaned as flames of pure need burned through my body and settled between my increasingly shaky legs.

I returned to my task at getting him fully naked, pushing him none-too gently to the bed so I could remove his boots and socks. That done, I reached for the waist of his jeans and eased them over his hips, his erection springing free from its denim confines. "Commando, huh?" I smirked. Honestly, I'd expected nothing less.

"Whatever you say, love," he chuckled, for once too distracted to question my modern slang. I wrapped my fingers around his shaft and stroked him once from base to tip before he shifted away with a slight laugh. He peered at me from beneath his thick, black lashes. "We seem to be unmatched again, love; how shall we remedy this situation?"

My heart raced, but I held his gaze as I removed my own jeans. Standing in front of him in nothing but black panties, I was surprised only to feel a sense of pride and not a shred of doubt. "Bloody hell," he murmured to himself, his fingers reaching out to tuck underneath the thin fabric. He peeled them from my body inch by inch before leaning toward me and placing a kiss on my stomach, circling his tongue into my navel.

He stood slowly, sliding his naked body against mine and kissed me once more. We wrapped our arms around each other – finally skin to skin – and my trembling returned, or had it never stopped? His mouth lowered to take one of my nipples between his lips and he sucked hard before swirling his tongue around the peak. "Killian…" His name escaped me in a whimper.

Turning us, he urged me to stretch out across his mattress then settled next to me, nudging one of his legs between mine. His erection was hard and hot against the naked skin of my hip and I squirmed unconsciously, feeling more than desperate for his touch. His questing fingers trailed across my waist before slipping between my thighs. At their first graze, I gasped and my hips writhed. "Shh, love, I've got you," he murmured while rubbing his thumb in firm motions against me. He knew exactly how to touch me, and I was completely helpless to fight the sensations. Each flick of his fingers caused the fire to burn hotter, and the ache to be filled by him was almost too much to bear. He pressed two long fingers inside of me and pumped twice, growling, "Ah love, you're so ready for me."

I reached out – grabbing his backside with both hands – and tried to force him to cover my body. "Please, Killian…" I sighed. As lovely as the foreplay was, I'd been ready for him for longer than I cared to admit. I was going insane with want.

His breath panted in my ear. "If we do this, you'll never be rid of me," he warned. I knew what he was trying to say. I knew what this meant to him. It meant the same to me.

"Good," I replied before turning my head to claim his mouth again, but he held his face back.

"Bloody hell," he cursed, shaking his head, "I don't wish to be crude…but, love, neither of us is quite ready for a ch – "

"– I've got an I.U.D," I interrupted, knowing _exactly_ where his thoughts were heading.

"A _what_?"

I groaned, and not in pleasure. "It's a type of birth control. Do you really want me to explain it right now?"

"Perhaps not," he exhaled, chuckling softly. The temporary concern in his eyes melted back into twin pools of liquid desire. "If you're sure?"

While I loved that he was still thinking about me rather than his own need, I really just wanted him to shut up. Tugging on his hair, I finally succeeded in fusing his lips to mine. Without breaking the kiss, he shifted to lie between my legs, propping himself up on his left arm. The tip of his erection prodded my entrance and he flexed his hips a few times, rubbing directly over that spot which was desperate for completion. His fingers laced with my left hand and he rested his forehead against my brow. "Mine," he whispered.

"Yours," I echoed as he pushed forward and joined our bodies as one. We moaned in unison as he finally filled me. I'd never felt this way before; this total completion of body, heart, and soul. Tears stung the corner of my eyes as he moved, that rhythmic give and take that was as old as time. He was all around me, but I couldn't get close enough. I wrapped my legs around his waist and tilted my hips to meet each of his thrusts. The nails of my free hand gripped his shoulder so tightly I was afraid I was drawing blood.

He circled his hips and my breath came in small gasps as the motion caused him to slide over that sensitive spot within me. I felt my body clench around him tightly. "Emma," he groaned; his pace increasing. My hand moved to grab his hair, pulling his face down. Noises of pleasure were swallowed by our kiss as I stroked my tongue against his. Our sweat-slickened skin slid against one another; his chest hair causing delicious friction against my breasts.

He wrenched his head back, face contorted in an expression between pain and pleasure. "Emma, love, what you do to me…I've wanted you, _waited_ for you for so long." His hips moved erratically and a drowning wave of raw need pulsed across our bond. He wasn't talking about sex, he was talking about love. He'd waited _centuries_ to find love again.

"I'm so close," I cried. That feeling in my chest swelled to join the heavy need in my lower body, threatening to break me apart.

"Aye love, together," he vowed. His hand loosened from mine and slipped between our bodies. He pressed his thumb against me in tight circles as his thrusts became more forceful.

Those confronting emotions within me coiled together – love against desire, passion against hope, want against fulfillment – and twisted until I was a writhing mass of feeling without consciousness. And then, I did break apart. His name was as heartfelt as a prayer when it escaped my lips. The words_, "I love you"_ pounded through my head in perfect rhythm with my racing heartbeat.

"I love you, too, Emma," he exhaled as he thrust once more then stilled, his muscles tensing as he rode out his own completion. My arms tightened around him even as my mind froze. _What did he just say? Too?_ I'd only thought my confession, not said it. At least, that's how I remembered it.

After several moments, he slipped out of me and moved to his side, pulling me alongside his body. Spreading feather-light kisses along my brow, he said, "Talk to me. I can feel you. You know that."

I stared into his deep blue eyes. A bible verse I'd heard as child – one of my foster parents had been a Reverend at a Methodist church – flitted through my memory_. Love is patient, love is kind…it rejoices with the truth. It always protects. It always trusts, always hopes…_I'd never been a spiritual person, but for some reason, that definition of love had always stuck with me. Ages ago, I'd believed in true love, and believed that it was all those things. And all those things were shining in Killian's eyes.

"You said too," I whispered.

"Aye, love." His warm hand smoothed over my back in gentle patterns. "Does that surprise you?"

"I didn't say it out loud. I only thought it."

"Truly?" His brow raised. "Must have been one hell of a loud thought." He cupped my face, ensuring that I focused solely on him. "Do not fear this, Swan. _Trust_ in it."

Strangely, I did trust in it, in him. Our nakedness in that moment was characterized by more than just a lack of clothes. Studying his face, I let the calm acceptance quiet any rising fears. I lifted my fingers to touch the faint scar on his cheek. "You've never told me how you got this," I commented before dropping my hand to the more prominent mark on his ribs. "Or this?"

"I've lived a hard life and fought many foes. Some who deserved it and some who admittedly did not," his lips twitched.

"And yet you're still here." My palm drifted to cover his heart, taking comfort in the steady beating that I had helped to spark.

"For as long as you'll have me." His voice still held that slightly rough quality I'd come to attribute to his satisfaction. Intimate and honest. He leaned forward and kissed me – a chaste brush of lips meant to comfort rather than arouse – and whispered those words again. "I do love you, Emma Swan."

My pulse tripped, and I took a deep breath. "I know. And I…I love you, too." An overwhelming feeling of what could only be classified as contented fulfillment – like completing the final touches of a mosaic masterpiece – surged across our connection, stealing my breath and momentarily flooding my vision with a shimmering white light, just as it had when I first bound him to me.

"What the bloody hell was that?" He exclaimed, a slight edge of unease coloring his voice.

I blinked rapidly, clearing the magic haze from my vision before settling on his face. "I don't know. I think…I think I might have just sealed our fate?" I said the last words in a rush, feeling stupid for even thinking them. But that's exactly what it had felt like.

He was quiet. We both were. His fingers brushed through my hair in a soothing fashion. "Well, if that's the case, love, I suppose there's no harm done. As far as I'm concerned, my fate was sealed some time ago." He kissed my forehead and continued his caresses.

My attention drifted to the heart and dagger tattoo on his wrist. Despite its age, the colors were still bright and clear with Milah's name emblazoned across the center. I traced it lightly with my fingertips. I felt no malice or jealousy – I could not fault him for loving before, just as I had – though I was sad as I remembered my dream. "Milah…you told me you watched her die. I think I dreamt about it. I saw it…felt it, or felt you." I swallowed and met his eyes. "And your brother…I dreamt about that just this morning. Your heart was broken."

His face fell. "Aye, love. As was yours when the officers arrested you for Baelfire's crime, and the moment you refused to allow yourself to hold your newborn son."

I gasped. "You know about that?"

His answering smile was faint and didn't reach his eyes. "Only so far as you know of my own tragedies." His palm moved to cover my heart. "It seems there is a lot more to this bond than the _crocodile_ let on."

"And now you can hear my thoughts," I grumbled.

This time his smile was more genuine. "Only the most important one."

I rolled onto my back, needing a respite from all the intense intimacy. "So where do we go from here?"

"I believe I told you before that I am at your service," he said, his voice a bit drawn.

I turned my head. "This is your life, too, Killian. You do get a say."

He leaned over and let his hand gently skim over my naked torso. "Then, I say this is _not_ a one-time thing, Swan."

I snorted. "It better not be." I slapped his hand away. "Don't get distracted. I have to go soon."

"You really don't," he started to say as his fingers crept along my breast.

"Yes, I do. Much as I'd like to stay right here for the rest of the night, I have to go home. But there will be other nights," I promised and meant it. I captured his fingers and brought them to my lips. "This is only our beginning."

With great reluctance, I slipped from the bed and began gathering my clothes. Tugging on my underwear and then pants, I said, "So, my family already knows about us. It's not some secret anymore. I guess that means we're a couple?" I didn't mean for it to come out as a question, but when it came to relationships I was as clueless as they came.

"I would be most honored to be recognized as yours, love. You know this."

I nodded. "Then we'll take it as it comes. People will get used to the idea. I mean, we've already been seen together."

"I really don't bloody care what anyone else thinks, Swan, but I will endeavor to make myself worthy of being yours." He sat up and reached for his own pants.

"What are you doing?" I asked as I refastened my bra.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" He laughed lightly.

I yanked my shirt and sweater into place. "It's late; aren't you going to bed?"

"Yes, darling, but first I'd like to accompany my love safely to her vessel, if not to her home." He stood to fasten his jeans, and I marveled at his incredible dexterity. Moving to the table, he picked up his leather brace and handed it to me. "Help me with this, won't you love?"

I considered the device in my hands; this was Killian's armor. A vestige of the harsh life he'd told me about, and the signature piece to his Captain Hook persona. "Do you really need it just to walk me to my car?"

To his credit he didn't dismiss my point straight away. A hint of something akin to shame mixed with fierce resolution flickered across our bond. "I would not escort you unprepared." He met my gaze head on, and held his bare arm out to me. Wordlessly, I slipped the sheath over his skin and fastened the straps, once again stopping to kiss the star on his shoulder. He pulled on his shirt before picking up his gleaming hook and twisting it into place. "Shall we?"

We walked side-by-side to my yellow car, exchanging glances rather than words. About halfway down the pier, he linked his fingers with mine, and I let him. While I had headed toward his ship with every intention of surrendering, I left it feeling as though I were the victor. I'd scoffed at the notion of love for almost as long as I could remember. To feel it burning in my heart, and more importantly, matched in his was nothing short of a miracle.

He flicked my hair playfully with his hook when we arrived at the driver's door. "Thank you for an incredible evening, milady," he grinned.

"Likewise, Captain," I saluted, returning his smile. He pulled me against his chest and captured my mouth in a searing kiss. I poured every emotion he'd inspired into our bond and he moaned, his fingers tangling in my hair. Pulling back slowly I beamed at him. "I'll call you in the morning."

The sudden sounding of a voice caused both of us to jump. "Well, isn't this a charming scene."

Killian spun to face the intruder and attempted to place me between his back and my car. "Crocodile," he growled under his breath.

"Gold!" I exclaimed, pushing to stand beside Killian. "Is there a reason you're lurking by the docks at this time of night?"

He tilted his head and smirked. "I could ask the same of you, Dearie; though, judging from that fond farewell, I'm certain I can draw my own conclusions." He eyed Killian with all the warmth of a snowball.

I felt Killian tense beside me, though he kept his tone fairly neutral. "What do you want?"

"Oh, I had some business this way. But, now that you mention it, have you taken care of the matter we discussed, Sheriff? It seems clear that you've made your choice." He swept a hand mockingly toward Killian.

I crossed my arms and leveled my gaze on him. "The opportunity hasn't really come up, yet."

"What the devil are you speaking of?" Killian asked, his distrust and frustration clear.

"Nothing to concern yourself with, _Captain_." He smirked again. "I wouldn't expect someone like you to understand common decency at any rate."

Killian shifted forward and I grasped his arm to stop him. Gold grinned. "My, my, it appears I've struck a nerve. And here I thought we'd set our differences aside." His attention returned to me. "My son deserves an answer."

"And he'll get it," I replied sharply, feeling a bit tired of being told what to do. Not to mention, Gold's intentions hadn't sat right with me since the entire bonding incident had begun. In what world was Rumpelstiltskin _okay_ with me choosing the pirate over his precious Baelfire?

Gold stepped closer to me, near enough to touch me if he wanted to. I held my ground, refusing to be intimidated. "Your magic seems different. Have you noticed any changes?" He lifted his hand and passed it over my chest. I felt a warm tingle of power wash over my skin.

Killian's hook stopped him before he could make contact. "Just what do you think you're doing?" His tone was as threatening as I'd ever heard.

Gold dropped his hand immediately and adopted that harmless expression he used to entice. "Assessing the variation to her magical aura, nothing more." He narrowed his eyes at the hook. "I see some habits never change." His gaze traveled over Killian before he tilted his head again. "Well now isn't this interesting. It appears some of Miss Swan's magic is now imprinted on you, as well."

"And what does that mean?" I asked, getting impatient with whatever game he was playing.

"I told you before there's no reported history for the bond you've created. We'll just have to continue monitoring its progress. If I can be of any assistance –"

"–We're doing fine on our own, thank you just the same," Killian interjected.

Gold smiled to himself, placing both of his hands atop of his cane. "Well, the offer stands. I wish you both a good evening."

We were both silent as we watched Gold walk out of sight. As soon as he was gone, Killian's frame relaxed and he pulled me loosely into his embrace with his hook anchored to my back and his hand resting over my heart. "Not the best ending to our evening, but I suppose it could've been worse," he commented.

My thoughts drifted back to Milah almost as easily as if he'd steered them there. Placing my palm over his hand, I said, "You know, I discovered something interesting back at Lake Nostos." A puzzled expression clouded his face. "After I knocked you out Cora tried to take my heart, but she couldn't. My magic stopped her. Apparently, I'm protected by true love."

A sense of clarity overtook him and he smiled. "Thank the gods for that," he murmured.

Our hands dropped and I opened the car door. "Gold's up to something."

"He always is."

"As long as we agree," I chuckled, though honestly, I was getting sick and tired of battling everyone's ulterior motives. I kissed Killian's lips softly – quickly – and stepped away. "I've got to go. I'll talk to you soon."

He smiled that shy smile that I loved. "Sweet dreams, Swan."

"I hope so," I winked. Closing my door, he stepped back and waited for me to back out. He held my eyes and waved as I shifted gears. It took all of my willpower to press down on the gas pedal to drive away from him. For the second night in a row, I travelled in the opposite direction of my heart, though this time, I left filled with hope rather than remorse. I was in love.

_And now the _real_ fun begins..._

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Thank you again to my partner in writing-crime, **Yettoseeyoufail**, and to those who continue to read, review and support this journey. I hope it was worth the wait ;)

I treasure your reviews almost as much as Killian treasures Emma. Who will be my lucky 100? Next update – probably this weekend. TTFN!


	13. Constant Reminders

**A/N: **Thank you for all the lovely reviews and messages. They brighten my day! I hope you are all suitably recovered from Emma and Killian's big night and ready for our plot to thicken. *insert maniacal laughter*

**Chapter 13**

**Constant Reminders**

I yawned and checked my phone, somewhat disappointed to find the inbox empty. Killian had started texting me as soon as the sun came up; apparently, neither of us had been able to sleep much after our…_dalliance_. His most recent texts had taken a turn for the naughty. I really didn't want to know who had tipped him off about the wonders of sexting. With messages like, _"Changed my mind, Swan. I am exceedingly interested in seeing your fancier undergarments."_ and "_You've inspired a hunger which cannot be sated. I yearn for another taste_," he'd kept me in a state of distraction not really conducive to focusing on work.

My mouth quirked into a half-grin as my thoughts settled…_again_…on last night. It had been as incredible as I'd expected, yet also entirely different. My body remembered how he felt every time I shifted in my chair, already craving a repeat performance. The passionate way he'd taken me, coupled with our truly honest conversation fed all parts of my soul. I completely understood what he meant about hunger; I hadn't realized until we'd finally given in how starving I'd been for both physical and emotional intimacy.

I sighed deeply and closed my eyes, letting my thoughts spiral down the path of temptation known as Killian Jones. We'd come together so quickly the night before; pushed to the limits of both of our control and desire. I couldn't wait until the next time when we could be slow and sweet, or playful, or rough. Maybe I'd break out the handcuffs again, or better yet, let him take me on the deck of the Jolly Roger in the moonlight, my body pressed against the large steering wheel as he pushed into me again and again. My lower walls clenched just thinking about it.

The abrupt appearance of David nearly knocked me out of my seat. I hastily straightened in the chair and grabbed the first thing I saw, pretending I'd been engrossed in reading and definitely _not_ thinking x-rated thoughts about a certain pirate.

"One hot chocolate with a dash of cinnamon," he said as he handed me a to-go cup from Granny's.

"Thanks," I responded, though I didn't look up from the newspaper in front of me.

He cleared his throat and I could feel his eyes focused on my face. "So, you got in pretty late last night…and left pretty early."

I mentally cringed, sighed, and set the paper aside. "Are we really going to talk about this?" I leveled my best criminal justice stare on him.

His lips twitched and he shook his head. "He'd better treat you right."

"Says the man who practically rolled out the welcome mat_._ Don't think I didn't catch that at dinner…texting?" My brow raised. "Tacos?"

"Hey," he held his hands out, "that was all your mother."

"That makes it even worse," I mumbled. "Can we just pretend we just had a normal family dinner in which you just happened to meet my…boyfriend." I rolled my eyes at myself, realizing I was not making the situation better at all.

"Boyfriend," David coughed. "Right. Got it." He hung his coat on the back of his chair and made a show out of arranging some files on his desk. "Speaking of Hook, he joined Snow and me for breakfast."

"He what?" _I guess that explains the lapse in his texts, _I thought.

"Well, there may have been a bit of a…_confrontation_ between him and the dwarves."

"Again?" I sighed. "What was it this time?"

"It seems Leroy witnessed the two of you engaged in a private moment?" His eyes narrowed. Taking my silence as confirmation, he continued, "He seemed to think Hook was taking advantage of you. He mentioned they'd already warned him to leave you alone once before."

"For crying out loud!" I exhaled in a rush. "The people in this town need to mind their own damn business."

His eyes widened as his hands went to his hips. "So it's true?"

"Yes," I hissed. "But not like you're thinking. Killian's been trying to make a better impression, but it seems some people are not quite ready to give him that chance."

He nodded and his posture relaxed. "I sort of figured as much. That's how he ended up eating with us. Your mother invited him over and sort of gave your uncles a dressing down. I don't think they're fully convinced that he's turned over a new leaf, but it's a start."

"And where is he now?" I asked, kicking myself internally for letting the thought escape. I didn't have to seem so interested.

"I left him with Snow. They were going to pick up boxes to start packing up the apartment."

Huh. He really was trying to ingratiate himself with the people around me.

My text alert sounded from my pocket. I waited until David sat down and started booting up his computer before slyly opening the message. _"Really darling, letting me take you against the helm?" _My cheeks flashed crimson. The inbox chirped a second time almost immediately after the first. _"I was thinking the mast, but I'm happy to indulge you in both. Repeatedly." _

_Son of a bitch!_ I silently swore, realizing I must have been projecting my thoughts to him again!

"Everything alright?" David inquired, looking at my face with a touch of bewilderment.

"Yeah," I said in a rush. "It's just a bit hot in here, don't you think? I'm going to grab some water," I stood, escaping to the small kitchen in the back of the station. Once alone, I shot a quick text back to Killian: _"I'm not alone. Behave yourself."_

His reply came just as I'd returned to my desk, glass of water in tow. _"Where's the fun in that, love?"_ God, I could just see his smug grin in my head.

Fighting back my own grin, I texted back: _"The fun comes later. Right now I'm working." _Well, at least I _should_ have been working. I locked the screen and set the phone to the far corner of the desk, determined not to give in to anymore of his taunts.

"So we've had a report about some potential criminal mischief from the owner of the cannery, and a complaint about Mrs. Teedings – you might know her as Old Mother Hubbard – regarding her dog digging up the neighbors' yards. Nothing too exciting," David commented.

I bit my cheek almost hard enough to taste blood when he mentioned the cannery. _So, _not_ a prop after all_. My helpful mind snorted at my inner mortification.

"I can swing by the cannery later on, if you'll look into the other?"

I cleared my throat. "Actually I think I'd prefer the cannery if you don't mind?" I held his gaze steadily, willing my face not to react. Naturally, that was the moment my phone alert sounded again.

His mouth curved. "Sure. It's a nice day for spending time down by the water." He graced me with an all too knowing expression and handed me the report before returning his attention to the forms before him.

I attempted to focus on the information in the file, but the blinking of my phone kept nudging me, almost nagging me with an imaginary voice demanding that I pick it up and read whatever new sinful suggestion my rogue of a pirate had in store for me. After five minutes of rereading the same paragraph over and over, I grabbed my cell and opened the message.

"_Comes? Really, Swan you make this far too easy. Shall I enumerate all the various ways I mean to assist you with that particular request?"_

Liquid fire raced low in my body while simultaneously heating my blood. He was not playing fair. _"Shut your mouth, Killian, before I staple it shut for you," _I tapped out somewhat aggressively, feeling beyond flustered. I reached for my glass of water and took a large swig, setting it down just as his reply chimed in.

"_I know not what staples are, love, but surely you'd prefer to leave my mouth unmarred as I've yet to put it to proper use between your thighs."_

I sputtered as the water I'd just drunk went down the wrong tube. David's eyes honed in on my face – most likely blazing red – then the phone clutched in my hand. It didn't take a clever man to piece two and two together. "Awful lot of texts you're getting this morning."

I hummed once, but said nothing.

I caught him shaking his head out of my periphery, muttering something which sounded suspiciously like, "Damn it, Leroy!" I didn't ask for clarification.

Sending Killian one final text – _"That sounds an awful lot like a challenge."_ – I placed the phone in my desk drawer and shut it firmly. It took nearly ten minutes without any further beeps for me to relax enough to actually do some work.

Reading through the report, I was puzzled by some of the details. According to the owner, they'd found several broken bottles and the remnants of a barrel fire; neither of which I'd noticed when I was with Killian. _Not that you were really taking in the scenery, eh Swan?_ Just great. Now _his_ voice was taking over _my_ conscience! I mentally glared at my own inner voice before considering other explanations for the findings. Storybrooke didn't really have a spree of criminal activity, but it was possible someone had broken into the cannery to use it as a temporary shelter.

My thought process was interrupted by a sudden bolt of alarm in my heart. I gasped and my hand flew to my chest. "You alright?" David asked, concern evident in his tone.

"Yeah, it's just heartburn, I think…" My voice trailed off. Realizing whatever was causing my discomfort seemed to stem from my connection to Killian, I slowly opened my desk drawer and checked my phone, but there were no new messages. He wouldn't have ignored my last text, would he? The acrid sting of anxiety crept through my veins. Something felt wrong. I dialed his number, but he didn't answer.

_He's probably just busy. Stop worrying_, I forced my inner thoughts to say. I held the phone in my grasp, staring at his name in my recent contacts, until whatever had initially caused my panic slowly dissipated away. With a tremor of reluctance, I set the cell back in my drawer. I'd try again in a few minutes.

The door to the station pushed open a second later. "Neal!" I exclaimed, truly unprepared to find him standing there. _Seriously, one interruption after another! _My inner thoughts raged.

"You!" The sudden glare on David's face was a hairs-breadth away from enacting 'if looks could kill.' He pointed at Neal's chest. "You and I need to have a chat."

"Now is not the time, Dad," I murmured before turning back to Neal. "So uh, what are you doing here?"

He watched David a bit warily. He seemed momentarily confused before realization slammed into his expression. "You told him?" He asked me.

"Damn right, she did! Just what were you thinking?" David's voice deepened as his volume increased.

I placed my hand on David's arm, hopeful that I'd inherited my mother's pacifying touch. His jaw tightened, but he backed down. Turning to Neal, I lifted an eyebrow, silently urging him to continue.

"I wanted to talk to you about taking Henry for the weekend," he said.

"Oh." _Oh shit!_

"It's just, I haven't really had a chance to spend much time with him," he continued.

_And whose fault is that? _My inner voice snipped.

Apparently I was silent for too long. He shifted to his other foot and tried to read my expression. "Is that a problem?"

"No. No, it's just…" I exhaled sharply, at a loss for whether to tell him the truth or not.

"Do you guys already have plans or something?"

"Kind of." I forced myself to maintain eye-contact. My heart rate increased, to my annoyance. I shouldn't be nervous. I knew I wasn't doing anything wrong. "He asked Killian if they could go sailing this weekend."

Neal's face hardened. "Killian." He stressed each syllable, eyes flickering between me and David.

Turning to David, I beseeched him with my eyes to give us some privacy. His answering sigh was not pleased, but the tension in his frame visibly slackened as he resigned himself to my silent request. "I've got to make some copies for the realtor. I'll be in the back if you need me."

As soon as David was out of sight, Neal's attention fixated on me. "I see you really took our conversation to heart." Disappointment radiated in his words.

"I did, actually. I just didn't come to the same conclusion as you." I flexed my hands and breathed out slowly. "Look, I get why you're concerned. But you're going to have to trust me. I would never do anything to put Henry in danger."

"Just yourself."

"Sometime, yes. But this is not one of those times." I sighed again and pinched my eyes closed, almost physically preparing myself to admit to him what he'd been accusing me of since Neverland. "I'm in love with him," I whispered.

He scoffed loudly but said nothing.

I could feel my face shifting into a scowl. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

He shook his head slightly. "Nothing. I really didn't come here to argue, Emma."

"Good, because there's really nothing to argue about," I asserted. "I get it. You and Hook have a past. One that's centuries old, I might add. I would think you of all people would understand not wanting to be judged on past mistakes."

His mouth opened once before he clenched his jaw.

"And besides, you two were fine in Neverland. I sort of got the impression that you'd already buried the hatchet. Am I wrong?"

His eyes dropped to the ground. He took a deep, slow breath. "It's just…you didn't even give us a _chance_."

"There hasn't been an 'us' in over a decade, Neal," I said quietly. "I told you that days ago."

He nodded. "You're right, you did."

"And you didn't believe me?" I asked, a bit taken aback by the slight sting that caused me.

Neal didn't respond. He didn't even look at all chagrinned. This wasn't some ploy to get me to change my mind; he really didn't think my feelings for Killian were genuine. _He's still thinking about his mother_, I silently lamented.

We stared at one another for an immeasurable amount of time. This was the very physical representation of an impasse. I had no idea what I could do to convince him that I was deadly serious when it came to Killian, and furthermore that he felt the same for me. Not to mention, I resented that Neal seemed to think he deserved some kind of evidence, as if Killian was the only thing standing in the way of a happy family reunion.

The station phone rang shrilly. "Sheriff Swan," I answered, my voice tired and borderline grouchy. With one problem still literally before me, I wasn't excited to deal with anything else.

"Oh good, you _are_ at the station," said a voice which sounded only vaguely familiar. "This is Dr. Whale. I wasn't really sure who to call, but then I remembered seeing you together and figured you were probably the best person to notify."

"Notify about what?"

"It's the pirate. He was brought in earlier and I don't have an emergency contact, so I figured-"

My heart dropped to my feet, thoughts of anything else completely vanished. "Is he alright?" I cut him off, voice pitched higher than normal. _God, I _knew_ something was wrong!_

"He sustained a blow to the head – we think. He's still unconscious."

"I'll be right there," I spoke rapidly, setting the phone back on the receiver a bit shakily.

"What is it?" Neal asked. My eyes widened as I saw him. Right. We'd been in the midst of a conversation.

"It's Killian. He's been injured."

"What about Hook?" David interjected, stepping back into the room.

"That was the hospital, he's…they said they don't know what happened," I muttered, my voice matching the swirling mix of confusion and nervousness in my chest.

David's eyes were calm and resolute, his words clear and commanding. "You go. I'll call your mom and hold down the fort."

"Thanks," I breathed.

"I'll go with you," Neal suddenly offered. I turned to him, a slight frown on my lips. He shrugged. "You're upset. You shouldn't go alone."

I tried to consider the implications of his offer, but could barely think past my overwhelming need to get to Killian. "Whatever," I muttered before grabbing my coat and pushing out the door.

**E&K&E&K&E&K**

Mary Margaret was the first person I saw when I rushed through the emergency room doors. "Where is he? Is he ok?" I asked rapid-fire.

Seeing Neal behind me, she hesitated. I met her eyes and nodded once, tightly. She gathered a breath before answering, "They took him for a CT Scan. He was awake when I got here."

"So you've seen him?"

"No, not yet. But I did speak with Dr. Whale for just a moment. He told me that Hook was 'his irritating self' when he woke up."

"Well, that sounds like him, alright," Neal muttered drily.

Ignoring him, my eyes swept around the waiting room. Aside from a tired-looking woman sitting with a young boy, we were alone. "Did Whale say anything about what happened?"

Mary Margaret shook her head no before taking a seat. I sat beside her a bit stiffly, resigning myself for the long wait which usually accompanied an Emergency Room visit. My nerves were uncomfortably on edge. My chest was tight, as if I couldn't gather enough air to sustain normal breathing. I needed to see him.

I jumped up as Whale appeared in the waiting room. He beckoned to Mary Margaret and me.

"You should probably wait here," I directed to Neal. He didn't argue.

We walked beside Whale as he took us down a corridor lined with patients' rooms. "We've settled him in a private room. From our preliminary evaluation, it seems he has a mild concussion, though we'll need the results of the scan to rule out anything more serious," he explained.

"And you still have no idea what happened?" I asked.

"He says he doesn't remember. But you're the Sheriff; I'll leave it to you to gather the details. He's right in here," he stated, ushering us into a dimly lit room.

My heart jumped at the sight of Killian in a hospital bed again. His eyes were closed, as if sleeping, and he didn't react to our presence. "What's wrong with him?" I turned an accusatory glare on Whale.

"It's not uncommon for patients with head trauma to doze." He approached Killian and pulled out a penlight, shining it in one of his eyes then the other.

"Bugger off, mate, I'm taken. Go sniff around that darling lady wolf you pretend not to leer at," Killian grumbled, lifting his hand to push the light away.

"Relax, Captain. I'm only interested in checking out your vitals. You can keep the rest of your parts to yourself." Whale turned and smirked at Mary Margaret. She shifted her stance and refused to look at him.

Killian's voice sounded sleepy as he continued, "Too right, mate, though I plan to share a few _particular_ parts later on with –"

I cleared my throat. Loudly. He turned his dazzling blue eyes on me and smiled. "Hello, love. When did you arrive?"

Stepping closer, I took in his slightly dazed look, so similar to the few times I'd seen him over indulge on his precious rum. It might have been adorable if I couldn't also see the slight crinkle of pain around the edges of his eyes.

"I'll be back once I have the results of the scan. You can have the nurse page me if you have any questions." Whale excused himself and left the room.

"No need to look so shocked, Swan," Killian said, cocking his eyebrow in silent commentary. I sat down on the edge of his mattress, just needing to be near him. There were a million things I wanted to say, but my brain refused to come to an agreement on how to start. I was still calming down from the immense fright of getting that phone call, but now I was also a bit annoyed. How dare he play this off as no big deal?

"This seems awfully familiar," he continued, lifting his hand from the mattress and fluttering his fingers. "Well; all except the handcuffs, that is."

"I'm sure that can be arranged," I retorted, though my voice lacked the necessary teasing.

Perhaps sensing the slight awkward tension, Mary Margaret shifted toward the door. "I'm going to call Charming and give him an update. Be back in a few." She looked between us before stepping into the hall.

Once we were alone, I stared at him silently for a long moment, letting my eyes drift over his face and upper body to check that he really was okay. My emotions felt like they were strangling me. He could've died. He could've left me, and I'd only just let myself love him. "You scared me," I finally admitted softly.

His entire expression changed as understanding dawned. "Oh love," he began, wrapping his fingers around my hand and tugging. It wasn't hard enough to force me to fall, but I collapsed against his chest just the same. I tucked my face against his neck and inhaled slowly, letting his familiar scent soothe my anxiety. His fingers combed through my hair. "Easy there, Swan; you're not rid of me yet."

"Don't even joke about it." I pushed myself up and glared.

"Apologies, love." He reached out and tucked my hair behind my ear. "It'll take more than a cowardly bump to the head to keep me from you."

"It'd better."

His fingers traced along my cheek as he watched me watching him. His eyes turned suddenly sweet and a tad playful. "You'll note that my mouth isn't – how you say – stapled," he smirked, tapping gently against his lips.

I felt my brow furrow again, trying to retain the seriousness of the moment, but Killian wouldn't have it. He pursed his lips in an adorable sort of pout and held the expression until my face broke into a small grin. He smirked – impending victory coloring his eyes – and I rolled my own as my smile widened. "You couldn't handle it," I taunted a moment before I leaned down and pressed my mouth to his.

His lips were soft and warm, and full of gentleness. As much as I loved kissing him with the raw power of our desire for one another, this moment demanded a quieter, but still as intimate reunion. "I am sorry to have worried you, love," he whispered as he drew his face back. He rubbed his hand in long strokes along my arm before his eyes tightened with some sudden concern. "Tell me though, are _you_ alright?"

"Me? I'm fine. I mean yeah, I was a bit worried about you, but I can see that you're okay."

"That's not really what I meant." His fingers touched over my heart. "Our bond. I have a hazy memory of the crocodile mentioning it could harm you were I to be injured, or worse; take both our lives if the other were to perish."

My muscles tensed as the memory he described washed over me. _Oh, right. Gold's warning_. I frowned as a different realization hit me. "I think I must have felt it. I had a distinct feeling of panic before I got Whale's call." I studied his eyes, looking for some sort of hidden knowledge. "You really don't have a clue what happened?"

"Afraid not, love, though I am most interested in determining the identity of my assailant." His voice lowered at the end of the statement and his left arm lifted. Without his hook attachment, the threat was not nearly as menacing, though I fully gathered his meaning.

"And we will. But right now you just need to concentrate on healing," I replied. His eyes were still stormy, still distant with his instinct for revenge. I smoothed my fingers over his furrowed brow and added, "I've got plans for you, and it will require you to be at full strength."

Some of the clouds left his gorgeous eyes as the corner of his mouth ticked upwards. "Is that right, love?"

"Mmm hmmm," I hummed. "Sexting, Killian?" My eyebrow arched. He did not bother to look anything but pleased with himself. "Just remember that payback's a bitch." He chuckled and my heart swelled with tenderness. I may have fought him every step of the way, but this surrender was just as sweet as the old adage promised. As much as I had claimed him in the Dark Hollow, he had fully claimed me right back. "I love you," I breathed against his lips.

"And I you, Swan." This kiss was slow and deep and I felt it all the way to my toes. Our faces lingered near one another as we reluctantly broke away. In that moment, whatever magical bond connected us felt as tangible as real cords fastening our hearts, minds and souls together.

A sharp rapping against Killian's door turned both of our heads. Neal stood a bit awkwardly in the doorway. I stood and faced him, smoothing my hands uselessly over the hem of my shirt. Just how long had he been standing there?

"Baelfire." Killian startled, genuine confusion in his voice. His sapphire eyes swept to mine.

"He came here with me." A pulse of unease crossed our link. "He was at the station when I got the call from Whale," I quickly added. "I was pretty upset."

Killian's eyes softened toward me, but I could still sense his wariness at Neal's presence. And really, I couldn't blame him. Our last joint encounter had not ended so well for any of us. "I'll be right back," I whispered, trying to convey with both my eyes and my feelings that he had nothing to worry about. I squeezed his hand once before gesturing for Neal to follow me into the hall.

"What is it?" I asked with measured calmness.

"I spoke with Mary Margaret. She told me Hook's going to be alright." He nodded to Killian through the doorway. "This thing you have with him…it's real, isn't it." It wasn't a question. "You do love him," he added quietly.

"I already told you that."

Neal shifted his weight before placing his hand behind his neck. "Yeah, you did. But I saw you two just now. I think he might really love you, too."

I waited in silence, not sure how to justify to Neal what I already knew to be true beyond any doubt.

Neal nodded again and exhaled swiftly before meeting my eyes. "I just want you to be happy, Em. I had hoped it might be with me, but I guess that's not in the cards for us. You were right about what you said earlier. There is a lot of history between all three of us. It's going to take some time before I trust him, but I do trust you. I want to be a part of both yours and Henry's lives. Do you think we can start over as friends?" His words were a bit stilted, but they were honest.

"I'd like that," I replied.

His face relaxed. "Good." He looked through the doorway and I followed his gaze. Killian was staring intently at the pair of us, an anxious sort of tension present in his expression. Neal nodded to him once, wordlessly imparting some message that Killian seemed to immediately comprehend. He eased back against his pillows, the rigidity in his face and posture releasing.

Mary Margaret rounded the corner with Whale. The good doctor motioned for us to step back into Killian's room. He looked at Neal a bit strangely and I tried to remember if they had ever officially been introduced; it was pretty challenging to keep all the friendships, family ties and rivalries in this town straight.

I took my place beside Killian as we waited for Whale to tell us the final diagnosis. Killian's fingers wrapped around my own, and I held it tightly. His thumb caressed over the back of my hand, and I wasn't sure if it was meant to soothe me or him. _A bit of both_, I concluded.

"It's as I suspected. You've got a mild concussion. You might experience a dull headache for a day or two and some dizziness and nausea. You'll need lots of rest and should be carefully monitored over the next twenty-four hours for any increasing symptoms. No strenuous activity; you need to avoid anything that might jostle your brain further." He continued describing the CT scan and how often Killian could take pain medicine before asking him about where he could be reached if the hospital had any further news about the incident.

"I really don't think it's a good idea for him to be alone on the ship with a concussion," I quickly commented.

Mary Margaret actually looked a bit affronted. "Of course not. He'll stay with us. We'll take good care of him."

Whale's eyes widened, though he quickly masked the reaction. "Right. Well, it's important that you wake him every half hour to assess his cognitive function through the night. And keep him calm and comfortable."

"I can take Henry, if you want?" Neal offered.

I turned to him, unable to hide my surprise. "Yeah, that would be great, actually. Thanks."

"I'll tell him that you'll call him later tonight." Neal smiled faintly at Killian and I – that silent acknowledgement reverberating between the two men again – before he stepped from the room.

"Okay, someone will be in with the discharge papers soon. If you have any questions, you've got my number." His eyes met Mary Margaret's again, a hint of taunting as if he was waiting for her to comment. She tilted her chin up defiantly, and suddenly all the looks between them made sense. Right. The good doctor and the school teacher had had a fling before the curse was broken. How could I have forgotten?

Killian's fingers flexed around mine, drawing my eyes to his face. _That's how_, my thoughts answered. He smiled my sweet smile before pulling his hand away to gesture to the hospital gown covering his body. "Would someone be kind enough to return my usual clothing? And my hook?" He lifted his left arm.

Mary Margaret produced a large bag filled with leather and fabric from underneath his bed. Handing it to him, she said, "We'll just leave you to get dressed. I've got your hook in my bag." Noticing I hadn't moved, she tilted her head in question.

"You go ahead. I'll be out in a minute. I'm just going to give Killian a hand." I mentally grimaced at my choice of words.

Her brow arched. "Alright. I'll be just outside." It sounded a bit like a warning.

Alone once more, I silently helped Killian slip into his leather pants and his pirate shirt. He moved a bit less gracefully than usual, using my shoulder to steady his balance. "Back to the old outfit, I see." I commented as I fastened a few of his buttons.

"I was in the mood for something familiar," he chuckled against my ear. His warm breath sent a shiver down my spine. Even injured he had the power to command my libido.

I slipped his heavy chain around his neck and smoothed my hands down his chest. Feeling his heart's steady rhythm against my palm, I said, "We're going to have to be careful."

"Aye love, I can be very quiet when needs be," his fingers teased under the hem of my shirt, brushing against the skin of my lower stomach.

"I don't think so, Captain." I laughed as I squirmed away from his touch. "There'll be none of that for awhile. You heard the doctor. And that's not what I meant, at any rate."

He pulled me close, wrapping me in his arms. Lowering his face to my ear again, he whispered, "There are ways around everything, love." I felt his warm tongue touch just beneath my pulse point.

Stepping back as gently as possible, I leveled my best attempt at a stern expression on his face. "I'm serious, Killian. We don't know who did this, and until we do, you'll need to be on your guard."

"I know that, love." His expression turned tender. "We'll figure this out. We always do."

I nodded before stepping backwards toward the door. "Finish getting dressed. I'm just going to find Mary Margaret." I pulled the door shut behind me as I left the room.

Whale approached me before I could take another step. "Sheriff, a word?" He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and handed it over. "The paramedics found this in Hook's hand when they arrived." His eyes were firmly fixed on a point beyond my shoulder, cheeks tinged pink.

Unlocking the screen, I saw the entire text conversation between Killian and I still open. _Fan-bloody-tastic. _"Thanks," I stated flatly.

"You should know it isn't recommended for patients recovering from a concussion to take part in any…_vigorous_ activity for at least a few days."

I fought to keep my face from reacting. "Yes, you mentioned that."

His brow lifted. "Right. Well, I just wanted to be clear." He backed away a step before turning and departing.

I sighed audibly and closed my eyes. I wanted nothing more than to slump down against the wall, or better yet, bury myself back in bed and start this day all over. Just when I thought I'd conquered one emotional battle, another was there to take its place. I was beyond glad that Killian was okay, but that didn't lessen my fear. I'd let him all the way in thinking the worst that could happen was that he'd one day stop loving me. Well I was wrong. The fear of losing him to some stupid accident, or someone's malicious intent was almost crippling because there was nothing I could do to stop it. Not really. And the consequences wouldn't just end with me losing Killian; I was just as tied to his fate as he was to mine. God, I'd been so selfish when I'd bound us together. I wanted him desperately, wanted that future filled with hope. Last night in his arms, I even allowed myself to believe that my happy ending was coming true. But of course the universe saw fit to throw another danger in my way. Who was I kidding? I was the savior. I didn't get to have a happy ending; at least not the way I imagined.

Mary Margaret's hand on my arm broke me from my depressing reverie. "He'll be alright, Emma. You both will."

I wiped my hand over my face, suddenly realizing a few tears had escaped. "How do you do it? After all the crap you and David have dealt with, how do you stay so optimistic?"

She smiled. It was full of wisdom beyond her outwardly young years. "Life will always be filled with challenges. You've just got to find those good moments between the bad. Live for the good moments, Emma." She squeezed my arm and smiled wider. "Now come on; let's get that pirate of yours and go home."

Home. Such an innocent little word with a myriad of meanings. Four letters combined into a single syllable. Only one letter differentiating it from another h-word: _Hope_. I'd decided last night that I wanted Killian to be both. Now it would be my job to make sure that it happened.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: This chapter kicked my butt. A thousand thanks to my writing OTP (See Romance! ha ha ha) for getting me through this one.

So…someone is out to hurt our bb. I would love to hear your theories as the story continues from here. Reviews are love!


	14. Lowering Walls

**A/N: **Thank you to all you wonderful readers who have found a place for Hollow Beginnings in your hearts. I continue to be floored by the positive responses. Thank you to **Yettoseeyoufail** – essentially the step-mom to this fic (she's not at all evil, I promise) and all the others who take time to review and leave me their thoughts. I love reading your theories! Hollow was also recently rec'd by **shulesaddict77** (a fabulous writer – go read her stuff after you're done here)…many thanks!

**Just a disclaimer** – this is in no way intended to be prescriptive for how to care for concussions. While I did my research, I am not a doctor. Just saying! ;)

**Chapter 14**

**Lowering Walls**

As soon as we stepped over the threshold of the apartment, Mary Margaret's maternal instincts kicked into high gear. I'd barely settled Killian on the couch before she appeared with a pair of David's sweats and one of his long-sleeved Henley shirts. "These might be a bit big, but they should be comfortable," she stated as she handed them over.

Killian barely hid his disdain for the lumpy fabric, grumbling, "Generally speaking, when its comfort I seek, I simply don nothing at all."

I shot him a look which I hoped conveyed I would've smacked him if he wasn't injured. Mary Margaret's cheeks flushed. "Be that as it may, this is all I can offer you for now. Tomorrow we'll go get more of your things. Are you hungry? Can I get you anything?"

"I'm not sure I could stomach much of anything at the moment," he paused, a bit of his normal mischief lighting his expression before his gaze swept over me. "But I might enjoy some of those delicious tacos later on."

Mary Margaret's entire face flamed red. I did a poor job at hiding my immediate smirk. _Serves her right!_ Schooling my face, I replied. "We're not having tacos again. Not for a while." He merely shrugged before yawning. His eyes were a bit duller than usual. "Maybe you should try to sleep a little," I suggested.

"Perhaps I shall, love." He looked around the apartment in silent consideration.

"You can have my room." I stood quickly and waited for him to join me. I led him up the stairs and into the second bedroom. He set the borrowed clothes on my bed and perused the room quietly. It was strange having him there, but at the same time it felt incredibly right. "I just changed the sheets this morning," I stated.

"And why's that love; have a bit of an inspired evening?" His mouth curved up into his trademark smirk, though some of the usual heat was missing.

"Save the flirting for when you can do something about it. Do you need anything before I go?"

"So you'll just abandon me to my slumber, is that it, Swan?" His words were playful, but a distinct feeling of unease pulsed across our link.

Stepping fully into the room, I shut the door behind me and approached him, laying my hand against his cheek. "Hey, what's going on with you?"

"Nothing," he lied. My eyes narrowed and he scoffed. "Well, I _was_ recently the victim of head trauma."

"Can the sarcasm," I muttered. "You're hiding something."

"Like what?" He challenged.

"I don't know. You tell me." I lifted my brow. Killian's face tightened before he sighed loudly. He was acting like a grouchy child. I wasn't sure if I found it endearing or annoying.

"Perhaps I find it a touch unsettling knowing someone bested me unaware," he admitted.

_Definitely endearing_, I thought as my face relaxed. "I'm sure they already asked you at the hospital, but what exactly _do_ you remember?"

"Not a bloody thing that would be useful," he growled.

"Humor me."

He sighed again. "I assisted your mother with the procurement of packing containers before planning to return to the Jolly for a bit of a lie down. I recall making it as far as the square in front of the docks before my memory fades away entirely. When next I woke, I was being manhandled by that preening buffoon parading himself as a healer."

I bit down to stop my grin at his description of Whale. It was fairly obvious that Killian did not find the situation at all funny. I stepped forward and gave him a chaste kiss. "It's like you said; we'll figure this out." I started to step back but his arms caught me and he drew me in for another kiss, this one a bit longer. I pulled back reluctantly. "Get some rest." He started to nod, but his eyes pinched with pain. I held the sides of his face with my hands and met his stare. "No quick movements," I reminded him. His acknowledgement came with his exaggerated blink before he moved toward the bed.

Mary Margaret was waiting for me at the table – cocoa at the ready – when I returned downstairs. As much as I enjoyed the chocolate drink, I was beginning to dread its appearance as it was becoming synonymous with a long talk. I thanked her and took a seat in one of the chairs, sipping from the rustic mug and waiting for her to open the conversation that was obviously on her mind.

"I want to ask you about something, but I'm not sure how to start," she finally began.

"This sounds serious," I commented. I had a feeling I wasn't going to like what she had to say – judging by the cautious restraint brimming in her eyes – but I couldn't guess what it was.

She folded both of her hands on the table top and gathered her resolve. "After I called Charming, I came back to Hook's room, but you two were still in the midst of a private discussion. I accidentally overheard part of it, and it has me feeling pretty concerned."

I felt my spine stiffen though I was careful not to allow my face to react. My mind scrambled through my conversation with Killian; there were any number of things she could've heard, though I supposed some would've been more upsetting than others. "What did you hear?"

"He said you two are bonded. As in a magical bond?" My silence was all the answer she seemed to need. "Oh Emma, why didn't you tell us?"

"Because it was enough of a challenge just to admit to you that I have feelings for him. How would you have reacted if I told you I tied my soul to his, feeling the way you did about him just a week ago?"

"I would've tried to understand," she asserted.

"Tried being the operative word," I sighed. "I'm not upset that you know. Actually, I'm relieved. But I couldn't tell you before; not when I was still trying to figure things out for myself. So yes, we're bonded."

"What exactly does that mean?" She asked. I hesitated too long. "I just want to help, Emma. Please."

I considered her request, wondering if it was kinder to give in to her obvious desire to help me carry my burdens or to keep her in the dark of the serious implications this bond held. I was so used to going it alone; I'd even told her as much before. But maybe now was the time to forge those familial ties she had never meant to break in the first place.

Taking a deep breath, I spoke in a rush; "It's a soul bond. We can feel each other's emotions, and we feel driven to be around each other."

"That doesn't sound too bad," she commented carefully. "You do have feelings for him, so hopefully you don't mind?"

"I love him," I blurted out. "I do…I'm not sure exactly when it started or how long it will last, but it's true." Her face broke into a beaming smile. She opened her mouth to speak – no doubt to shower me with her glad tidings – but I cut her off. "When one of us dies, so does the other. Gold told us our life forces are dependent on each other."

And just like that her face fell. "And someone is out to hurt Hook…" My mother was fast, I'd give her that.

I expected her to console me; to backpedal from her initial attempt at laying guilt at my feet for not being entirely honest, but she surprised me. Her posture straightened and the confidence and optimism of her royal bearing shifted onto her expression. "I won't let that happen. We'll figure this out. Together."

"Thanks," I conceded, and meant it. Looking across the table at her…at my mother…I was taken aback by the surrealism of our situation. What would our relationship have been like if our paths had not been cursed? Would I still be reluctant to confide in her, or would we have truly been as close as best friends. "Sometimes I wonder what my life would've been like if I'd grown up in the Enchanted Forest," I spoke softly. _If I hadn't grown up feeling entirely broken_.

She was quiet as she gathered her thoughts; an unspoken sadness shadowing her eyes. "After we learned about the curse, when I knew I'd have to leave Charming and my home behind, I used to lie awake for hours imagining what our futures would be like or what could've been if only the curse never came." She lifted her gaze to mine. "You were never meant to be alone…in either scenario. Things didn't turn out as I'd planned." She paused, her lips curved slightly. "I certainly never expected my daughter to fall in love with a pirate – though, I'm not as shocked as I should be. But Emma, even when I couldn't remember you, I _loved_ you. So much."

I listened to every word she said, but found them hard to hear. A part of me realized how similar this conversation was to the talk I'd had with Henry just yesterday, only the roles were reversed. A renewed shame washed over me. Had I condemned my son to feeling just as lost, just as broken as I had?

Mary Margaret shifted in her seat, seeming to physically transition away from our heavy topic. Maybe she sensed how uncomfortable it made me, or maybe she felt that way herself. Her falsely chipper smile masked any lingering pain. "It's been awhile since we got home. Do you want to check on Hook or should I?"

"I'll go," I replied, glad to have my own excuse to change gears. I moved toward the stairs before making a sudden decision. Turning back, I walked to Mary Margaret and hugged her, just for a moment. I didn't say anything. I didn't have to. When her hand came up to rub my back, I knew it was enough; I knew she understood.

"Go on. Check on your pirate," she laughed as she pulled away. Her real smile lit up her voice.

Killian was awake when I entered the bedroom though he remained stretched out on the bed. "You're awake," I commented dumbly.

He turned his head to look at me. The tight lines around the edges of his eyes told of his discomfort. "Haven't slept yet."

"Headache?" I whispered.

"Aye, love. What I wouldn't give for a bottle of really good rum."

I laughed and stepped further into the room toward my vanity. "Well, in this realm we have something better for a headache." I rifled through the top drawer and produced a bottle of Tylenol. "These are pills for treating pain. I'll get you some water," I started to say, but he cut me off.

"No need, love. I'll come with you. I can't bloody well sleep while my head is so ill-tempered." He shifted his legs over the side of the bed and began to push himself up, groaning slightly at the effort.

I placed a hand on his chest, stopping his ascent. "You need to keep resting." I plumped his pillows and urged him to sit back against them. "Stay here and I'll be back with some water and some ice for your head."

"I hate to see you leave, but love to watch you go," he called a bit half-heartedly as I departed. I shook my head; first the sexting, now pick up lines? Just who had he been spending time with?

Returning a few minutes later, I found Killian lounging back against the pillows, leafing through a magazine I'd left on my nightstand. "How to drive your man crazy in only five steps," he read aloud. I yanked the magazine from his hand – realizing he'd found an article about giving blow jobs – and stuffed it into one of my dresser drawers.

"You're supposed to be resting, not reading," I chastised. Handing him the glass of water and the pills, I waited until he took the medicine before situating the ice pack behind his head. He sighed and let his eyes fall shut. Seeing his relief – however small – caused my heart to melt.

"You don't have to be so tough all the time," I heard myself whisper.

One of his brilliant blue eyes opened to assess me, intrigued and incredulous all at the same time.

"It's just that you know I can feel what you're feeling, too. You don't have to put on an act with me. I know you're hurting."

He smiled sweetly. "Ah love; just having you near lessens the pain."

Whatever I might have responded with was interrupted by the sudden appearance of my father in the doorway. "Glad to see you're alright, Hook. Even if you're not looking so hot," he commented.

"Why Dave, I didn't know you cared so much," Killian retorted, fluttering his eye lashes. "And I am too still bloody hot," he mumbled under his breath.

David grinned. "Of course you are; you're wearing my clothes."

I rolled my eyes, sure I was missing some sort of inside joke. Sometime in Neverland, I'd noticed a shift in their relationship. It had started after Killian saved David's life and progressed from there. Their banter hadn't changed, but the intent had. What used to sound like thinly-veiled disdain had grown into a mutual respect covered by teasing barbs.

Killian opened his mouth – likely preparing another well-aimed mark – but I interrupted. "Alright. It's time for the patient to get some rest."

"I brought dinner, if you feel up to it?" David asked Killian.

"Perhaps later, mate."

David nodded before leaving us along again. _He didn't even level a warning look_, my conscience pointed out. Was this progress, or did he think Killian was harmless in his current condition? _Absolutely not_.

"I think your parents are growing fond of me, Swan," he winked.

_They're not the only ones. _"I'll be back to check on you in a little while. Try to sleep."

"Aye love, I will," he replied, his voice already sounding a bit languid and heavy.

Switching off the light, I gently closed the door and stepped into the hall. I pulled out my cell and dialed Henry's number, beyond glad that I'd gotten a phone for him at the same time I'd purchased Killian's. I really didn't feel up to another talk with Neal, even if it did seem like he was backing off.

Henry handled the disappointment of not going sailing with amazing ease, even going so far as to order me to "….tell Hook I hope he feels better soon." It warmed my heart and fueled my decision to give this thing with Killian a full chance.

David was already seated with Mary Margaret when I got back downstairs. He gestured to the pizza resting in front of them. "Hungry?"

"Thanks," I said, grabbing a slice and sliding into a chair. I silently mused over what Killian's reaction would be when he tried pizza.

"What did you find at the cannery?" I asked.

"Nothing much. Just the things the report mentioned. I don't think it was a forced entry though; at least, there were no signs of one."

"And the surrounding area? Killian said the last thing he remembers is walking in the square by the docks."

"Clean. But interestingly, I spoke with the paramedics and they said he was found in the alley running by the hardware store."

My heart thudded. _The hardware store? Really?_ It could not be a coincidence that the two locations in which Killian and I had furthered our relationship were suddenly hot beds of activity.

"And there are still no witnesses?"I asked, disbelief ringing in my voice. Seriously, the rumor mill in this town was one for the record books but no one had seen anything when it came to a pirate – in full costume – being attacked in broad daylight?

"None that have come forward," David responded. From his tone, I gathered his mind was thinking along the same lines as mine.

"I'm going to ask around tomorrow, see if I can get any more information," Mary Margaret offered.

"If you think it will help," I added. In truth, if anyone in Storybrooke could get people to spill their guts it would be my mother.

Considering the subject temporarily closed, David continued filling me in on the rest of his day before helping Mary Margaret clean up from dinner. I considered everything he'd said combined with what Killian could remember and could only come to one conclusion: someone was up to something involving Killian – and possibly me, too – and whoever it was, they'd done a fairly good job at covering their tracks thus far.

It was not a good feeling. I had suspected Killian was a target, but the shady circumstances surrounding his attack set off both my superpower and my concern as someone who loved him. Making my way back upstairs, I thought about what my next step should be. Obviously I would check out each location myself, but it would also be helpful to compile a list of potential suspects. We'd need Killian's help for that.

I crept into the room as silently as possible. Killian lay on his side with his hand tucked under his head. His lashes made black crescent moons across his cheeks. He'd left the Henley shirt unbuttoned, revealing a thatch of dark hair, though it was far less indecent than usual. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I ran my fingers through the hair at his temples before leaning down to kiss him lightly on the mouth. His eyes opened just as I leaned my head away. "Hey," I whispered.

He blinked several times in quick succession. "Swan," he stated, his voice a bit rough.

"Sorry to wake you. How are you feeling?"

"Like I sustained a very hard blow to the back of the head." He rolled onto his back. "And you, love?" His hand rested over his heart. "You've something weighing on your mind."

"Don't worry about me," I deflected.

"Not possible. Come on, Swan. Out with it." He pushed himself into a seated position.

I assessed him carefully, trying to determine whether I should tell him or make him go back to sleep. His brow lifted stubbornly, telling me without words that I didn't really have a choice. "David and I were talking about your accident and some other reports we got at the station today. I was just trying to make sense of everything."

"Can I help?"

"Maybe. I was thinking we should make a list of people who could be involved."

"Agreed. Shall we take this conversation downstairs? I imagine Dave would like to participate."

"If you're feeling up to it."

"I'd love to show you how very _up to it_ I can be," he started; pausing as he took in my lack of expression. "Perhaps another time?"

"Don't push it," I warned. He followed me back to the kitchen where David and Mary Margaret were engaged in a whispered conversation. I eyed them suspiciously as they stepped apart. Mary Margaret offered me a tight smile, and I could guess at what she'd just shared with David.

"So, do we have any leads on who might want to cause you harm?" David asked once we were all seated around the table.

"No idea, mate. As likeable as I am, I'm stumped as to who might be currently at conflict with me," Killian replied.

"You did piss off a lot of people before we all left for Neverland. Gold is an obvious choice, for Belle and your past." I carefully did not mention Milah's name.

"The dwarves aren't overly fond of you," Mary Margaret added.

"Nor Anton, for that matter." I frowned.

"Oh, and Archie!" Mary Margaret continued. "You did kidnap him."

"Well, aren't I the popular villain," Killian drawled.

Mary Margret's face fell. "You don't think Neal could be involved; do you?"

I considered the possibility, wanting to immediately shoot it down. Sure, Neal was jealous. But he wouldn't intentionally hurt Killian, would he? "No. No I don't think so."

"Of course, we should also consider those who might wish to harm you," Killian said, his glance flickering to me.

David and Mary Margaret shared a look between them. "But only those who know about the bond would suspect that hurting you would also affect Emma," Mary Margaret pointed out.

I looked down at the list in my hands. "You said there were no signs of a break-in at the cannery. Do you think magic was involved?"

"It's possible," David conceded. "Though, we don't have any proof that the two events are connected."

Right. He didn't know about our cannery fun. I knew it wasn't concrete evidence, but it seemed far too coincidental to ignore. "True, but he was found nearby. I don't think we should ignore the potential connection." My eyes strayed to Killian. He was slightly slumped in his chair, his face a bit pale. "It's getting late and you really haven't rested as much as you should," I commented.

"Quite a demanding little thing, aren't you, love?" His lips twitched. Through our connection I could tell he was actually pleased to have me nagging him, though he was plainly exhausted, too. "Far be it for me to argue with a lady." He stood slowly and pushed in his chair.

"We're heading to bed, too. We're picking up the keys for the house first thing in the morning. Then maybe we can head over to your ship?" She looked to Killian. He inclined his head ever so slightly, though judging by his slight wince, the motion still must have aggravated his headache.

David and Mary Margaret made their way to the sectioned-off portion of the living room which doubled as their bedroom. Settling my attention on Killian, I asked, "Shall we?"

His face brightened as he likely realized I planned to join him. "Lead the way, love."

Once back in my bedroom, Killian immediately started preparing for bed. He rid himself of the borrowed shirt and tossed it over my vanity. I was puzzled by two purplish marks on the left side of his chest, just above his heart. They were about an inch long and half an inch wide. "What are these from?" I asked, brushing my fingertips over them.

Killian turned to look in the mirror, his own hand coming up to inspect them. "I've no idea. They're not painful. Perhaps I acquired them when I fell?" He looked thoughtful for a moment before leering at me. "Or from my wanton lover?" I just shook my head and he laughed, seeming to shrug the bruises off as no big deal. "Help me with this, lass," he asked, starting to loosen the straps on his brace. I helped him slide the leather from his arm and he set it on the nightstand before he slipped beneath the sheets. I quickly stripped down to just my shirt and underwear before turning off the light and climbing in beside him.

"Taking a bit of a risk, eh Swan?" I could almost hear his brows arching.

I turned onto my side to face him, leaving about a foot of space between us. "Not really. We're just going to be sleeping." He didn't reply, though a moment later, I felt his fingers stroke over my thigh. I stopped his wandering hand with my own and placed it back on his side of the bed. "Goodnight, Killian."

He shifted, kicking the sheet off his legs and moving his arm above his head. After several minutes, a loud sigh sounded from him. "I can't bloody well get comfortable. I've grown too accustomed to the motions of my ship," he confessed.

My heart softened. As out of sorts as this man made me feel, I sometimes forgot that he was dealing with the same emotions I was, often in unison. Even worse, he found himself in an entirely new setting with only me as his guide and until recently, I'd been doing a really poor job of it. Now, he had the concussion to contend with on top of everything. _Maybe there's something you can do to help_, my conscience hinted. "You're too tense," I observed. An idea born from his earlier discovery blossomed in my mind.

"Well spotted, love," he grumbled, attempting to reposition himself on his side.

"Be still," I commanded in a whisper. Pulling the sheet all the way back I straddled his waist, leaning over to softly kiss his lips, then his jaw, then his neck before biting down gently on one of his nipples. I laved it with my tongue and there was a whistle of air as he sucked in a breath.

"Swan, what are you doing?" His voice was raspy and deep. It spoke to that part of me that fantasized about chaining him up someday to have my wicked way with him. _Gently, Emma_, I had to remind myself.

"Helping you relax," I spoke against his skin, trailing open-mouth kisses along his lower abdomen.

I felt his muscles contract, then release, then contract again. "I'm not sure that's helping, love."

"Shh," I soothed. "Don't talk. Just feel." My lips traced a path from one of his hip bones to the other before I peeled his sweats down. He was already hard, though when I took him in my hand, I felt him grow even firmer. I shifted down so that I could rest between his legs before gently swiping my tongue over the tip of his shaft. His fingers immediately latched themselves into my hair. Slowly, I took him into my mouth, swirling my tongue around him as I set a shallow rhythm.

I'd never been much of a fan of this act, but it was entirely different when performed on a man I truly loved. Every moan, every ragged catch of his breath was like finding another piece of buried treasure. I wanted nothing more than to make him feel good. I poured my feelings for him across our link, my own pulse thrumming wildly through my body with both love and arousal. His fingers tightened against my scalp as I hollowed my cheeks to increase the pressure, taking him in long, tight strokes with my lips. He nearly whimpered my name. His breaths were erratic and loud, causing my own body to clench with desire.

I slipped my hand between us and gently rolled his balls in my palm while my lips and tongue continued caressing his length. "Emma!" He exclaimed. His hips lifted off the mattress, forcing his erection deeper into my mouth. I moaned around him before lightly scraping my teeth along his delicate skin. I felt his body tense and his fingers abruptly vanished from my hair.

Peering up at his face, I watched as absolute abandon flooded his features. He bit down on his knuckle as his hips surged up once more. "Love, I'm nearly spent," he cried as he tried to shift away. I pressed down on his hip with my arm – holding him steady – as I took in his entire length, feeling him against the back of my throat. With a muffled groan, he spilled his release into my mouth and lord help me, I swallowed every drop.

Pulling my mouth away, I redressed his lower half and moved to lie beside him. His arm wrapped around my shoulders and he kissed the top of my head. I could hear his heart pounding in his chest and feel it radiating across our bond. "I love you," I whispered into semi-darkness. It was getting easier and easier to say, particularly in moments like these when I could literally feel how completely both our walls were down.

"I know," he murmured. "Emma, that was…How you made me feel…I'm…I…" he exhaled sharply before taking several steadying breaths. It was so unlike him to be at a loss for words. "So long has happiness eluded me," he started again before falling silent for a long moment. When he resumed, his voice was quieter; the anxious sincerity of a confession. "When I lost Milah, I thought my life was over…but I survived." He turned his face so that we were eye to eye. "I can't live without you. Not just because of some bond; you are everything, Emma, and I am terrified that I'm not enough to keep you."

His words crushed me. Not only because I loved him, but because it was exactly how I felt my entire life. For all his swagger and pirate bravado he was – under it all – a lost boy. Just as I was a lost girl. He'd shown me glimpses of his vulnerability a time or two before, but never to this extent.

"You're not alone in that." I tilted my face so it rested against his left shoulder, his arm moving to tuck me to him. Nervous tremors fluttered through my chest, but I took a deep breath and squashed them down. I wanted him to know. For once, I trusted that he was a person I could finally be entirely real with. He was the one person who had never stopped fighting for me, for _us_, no matter what. "I've never had this. No one has ever fought to keep me before."

His arm tightened around me, but he stayed silent, knowing, or sensing that I had more to say. I felt the bile churn in my stomach as I searched for words to explain the memories I'd buried deep within myself. "I took the name Swan from one of my earliest foster families. I was with them for three years, longer than any other place. When they had a baby of their own, they said they couldn't keep me anymore; that they couldn't look after me and a baby." I swallowed thickly, feeling the torrent of old hurts welling inside me. "Mrs. Swan used to read me _The Ugly Duckling_. She told me that even though I felt out of place, one day I'd be as beautiful as a swan and everyone would love me," I felt my voice choke bitterly on the last part of my words.

Killian's hand reached across his body to cup my cheek, further securing me to his side. His voice was barely a whisper – low and gravelly – as he spoke. "I never knew my mother; she died in childbirth…my father abandoned me before the age of ten. While I am still unaware of the particulars, it was rumored he fled in the night to avoid arrest for a crime against the crown. Liam found me living on the streets several years later."

The weight of our words settled around us like an anchor, only, rather than holding us down, I felt like it held me to him. This was not a contest over who'd suffered the most hurts; this was an intentional removal of barriers. We'd bared our bodies and our hearts; we'd already joined our souls. What was left but our minds? Filled with memories, dreams, fears and a desperate hope to find that one person with whom we could be safe.

"They gave me up. Just like my real parents. I know it wasn't their fault, but I can't help but wonder sometimes if there wasn't another way? What might my life had been like if one of them had fought to keep me? Or Neal for that matter? He was the first person I gave my trust to, and he just threw it away."

Through our bond, I felt Killian react to Neal's name, but for once it was in empathy rather than jealousy. "I met Milah only a few years after Liam's death. At first, she only saw what I could give to her – a life of adventure, an escape from her unhappiness. But after awhile, I believed she recognized the man beneath the pirate. When she was taken from me, it seemed confirmation that I was never meant to love at all. Who would want a one-handed pirate with a drinking problem?"

"Who would want an ugly duckling?" I echoed, my voice barely denting the stillness surrounding us despite feeling like it was pounding from my lungs.

We lay in silence for an immeasurable amount of time. I listened to the gentle rise and fall of his breathing, feeling an unfamiliar void in my chest. Had I clung to those insecurities for so long that they'd physically become a part of me?

Killian's hand moved to cover my heart. In the darkness, I could feel his eyes turned on me. "I want you, Emma. I want all of you." Somehow, it meant more than hearing him say I love you. I'd heard that before, and still been cast aside. Killian wanted me; he wanted to keep me. I felt it in everything he did.

"And I want you, too, Killian."

He turned and pressed a kiss to my head. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say these were nearly vows, Swan."

I elbowed him gently in the ribs. "Don't even think about that." _Not yet_.

"Careful, love. I'm an invalid, remember?" He chuckled. "Besides, as I find myself anchored in your realm, perhaps it shall be you doing the asking. Only when you're ready of course?"

"Keep dreaming."

He laughed softly again. "But just so we're clear, I expect nothing less than trumpets, flowers and possibly a children's choir with the voices of angels as you ask for my hand."

"Goodnight, Killian!"

"_Someday, Swan…"_ his voice promised, only I was pretty certain he hadn't spoken out loud. "Goodnight my love."

Long after Killian had drifted asleep I found myself awake and considering our conversation. Somehow – through the sharing of our pasts – he'd crossed even more realms than I think even he realized. If he'd hinted at the 'M' word yesterday I would've been out the door before he could blink. Now? Now my mind was actually considering what life would be like having Killian as my husband. We weren't ready for that. Not yet. But someday? _It's not the most terrible thought…_

I snuggled deeper against him, breathing in the scent which had become as familiar to me as the fragrance of my shampoo and closed my eyes. Visions of me wearing a ridiculous poofy white dress mocked me from behind my eyelids. _Someday indeed_.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Thanks for reading. I still welcome your theories (and comments) so don't be a stranger; leave a message in the little box!


	15. Heartfelt Conversations

**A/N: **Thank you, thank you, thank you for the awesome response to the last chapter. I was so touched by all the support! Your theorizing is spectacular; some of you are getting fairly close, though I feel certain I may still surprise you yet! As always, a thousand thanks to **Yettoseeyoufail**; seriously guys, if not for her, you'd be waiting months for these chapters. She also contributed some really great lines of dialogue! Without further ado, our plot begins to unravel… (oh, and just in case, there is an M warning in play).

**Chapter 15**

**Heartfelt Conversations**

The sun shone on my face so brightly that a dozen shades of orange blazed behind my eyelids. Killian's firm body pressed against mine from shoulder to hip; his calloused fingertips brushing teasing strokes along my jaw. "Emma, love…" he whispered. His breath was as gentle as a warm summer breeze against my face.

I sighed and snuggled closer against him, the wooden deck of the Jolly Roger more comfortable than I would've imagined. The feather-light touches continued, tracing my pulse from my neck to right above my heart. Killian's leg shifted to lie between my thighs and I couldn't resist flexing my hips to feel his hard muscle against my groin. He chuckled lightly, sending another puff of air against my cheek. "Wake up, love." His teeth replaced his words at my ear.

"Mmmm…so nice here with you," I mumbled against his throat. I could feel him swallow as I pressed my lips lightly against his salty skin. His fingers trailed along the exposed skin at the collar of my shirt, sending tiny bolts of excitement throughout my body. I sighed and let my hand curve along his arm and then down his toned back.

"Emma," he called again, biting playfully at my earlobe. His hand moved to slide beneath the hem of my shirt, brushing against my lower abdomen so softly it almost tickled. "You're dreaming…" I felt his smile against my cheek a moment before his delicious mouth covered mine.

My eyes snapped open, meeting his sparkling blue gaze. He pulled back by only a few inches, positively beaming. "Good morning, love." I felt his fingers tease under the edge of my underwear, making my stomach and much lower parts clench.

"Good morning," I murmured sleepily. With a quick flick of my eyes, I confirmed that I was currently in my bedroom – in bed…with a very adorable and very awake Killian – and not lounging on the deck of his ship.

His hand slid further beneath the fabric of my panties, fingers barely grazing the soft curls. Testing rather than teasing. "Pleasant dreams?" He grinned, his eyes shining with some unnamed satisfaction.

Realization of _why_ Killian was next to me funneled back into my brain. My hand lifted to his brow. "How are you?" I asked as I turned my head marginally to check the time; I should have woken him hours ago.

"I'm fine, love." He spoke tenderly, his face lowering to mine again. I stopped him with my fingers over his lips. He nipped at them playfully. "Darling, I am perfectly capable of giving you pleasure without jostling my brain." His tongue licked his lower lip, catching my eyes in a sort of trance. My mind exploded with images of what he could do with that mouth, what he'd already teased me about. His lips curved into his most devilish type of smirk, eyes darkening. His voice lowered to a lover's whisper. "Oh love, don't fret; I shall have my mouth settled on your quim one day soon enough."

My pulse sped as I felt desire pool between my legs. Sensing my momentary shock, he leaned in to kiss me. He sucked my lower lip between his, catching it with his teeth before he used his tongue to soothe the sting. I gasped, my hand curling around his shoulder as my back arched. My body wanted nothing more than to completely surrender to his every demand, but I couldn't entirely dismiss that shred of doubt which questioned the wisdom of our actions. "Killian…wait," I breathed. "We shouldn't…your concussion…"

His fingers slipped further, spreading my lower lips and teasing at my entrance. His breath was hot and heavy as he spoke; "We definitively should." His eyes faded into a quiet desperation. "Please, Emma, I _need_ to see you falling apart by my touch." He circled the shell of my ear with his tongue. "I promise not to raise my head from this pillow."

I'd like to say I gave it a lot of thought and was able to put him off, but as he smoothed his lips back along my jaw and his finger circled lightly over that aching spot below, I knew I didn't stand a chance. Wordlessly, I ground my hips against his questing fingers and sealed my mouth over his.

We kissed almost lazily but with amazing effects, neither of us moving anything but our lips and tongues. A thought formed in my mind of Killian's scruff burning against the sensitive skin of my thighs as his talented mouth recreated the motions against another part of me. I could've sworn I felt his tongue teasing my lower lips before slowly entering me and I cried weakly, pulling my head back to stare into his open eyes. "What…what was that?"

A surge of love mixed with excitement and…pride?…poured into my heart. "I was imagining the things I wish I could do to you, love, were it not for my promise to behave myself." He twisted his fingers, the tip of one pushing shallowly into me. My body curled.

"I felt it…saw it…" I replied, astonishment clear in my voice.

His eyes widened and his perfect white teeth flashed as he grinned. "Did you? Well, I wonder what else I can make you feel." He settled his forehead against mine – blue eyes staring as deeply into my soul as anyone ever had – and focused his efforts below.

Fingers slid deftly over slickened skin before plunging deep…again and again. He curled those fingers upward, grazing over that spot inside me that sent my pulse thundering out of control and my hips gyrating helplessly, seeking relief. My mind was torn between simultaneously feeling his motions and the projection of graphic images he was imagining. As his thumb pressed down on that swollen bundle of nerves, my mind saw his lips sucking intently on it. I tried to hold back a whimper – completely ravaged by both my own reactions and the intense wave of emotion he was sending across the bond.

"Don't hold back, love. Let me hear it…let me feel what I do to you," He rasped. His eyes burned like midnight blue flames, his face almost slack with need. He added a third finger and twisted.

A deep moan sounded from my chest before his name escaped my lips almost as a chant. My breath was ragged, adding to the light-headed sensation in my overwhelmed mind. I threaded my fingers into his hair and forced myself to keep my eyes fixated on his. "_I love you, I love you, I love you," _my mind cried into his. A soft veil of white magic surrounded his head like a halo. Where before I would've feared it, now it made me smile. I let my feelings of love fill us both, wrapping around us with all the comfort of a fleece blanket.

"Emma," he sighed in pleasure. He captured my mouth, his tongue thrusting forward to entwine with mine just as his fingers tipped me over the edge. Ripping my face away, I cried his name as waves of pleasure pulsed throughout my body.

With a few more gentle caresses, he lifted his hand from my lower body, bringing it up between us. Keeping our eyes locked, he slowly swirled his tongue around his fingers, sucking them into his mouth and cleaning them of me while moaning as if he'd just tasted a delicious treat. Heat flash boiled across my skin from the tips of my ears to the bottom of my toes. His smug satiation radiating across our bond did nothing to help. He chuckled as I nestled against his side, content to let my fingertips roam through the dark hair covering his upper body.

I ghosted over the marks on his chest, just trying to regain my composure. This close, it was obvious they were bruises. My thoughts slammed against my skull, all the warmth draining from my face. _Bruises. Over his heart..._ I stilled my motions, aligning my thumb and middle finger over the fingerprint-sized marks. The sudden swell of awareness latched onto my conscience with painful, jagged teeth. Someone had tried to take Killian's heart.

"Love?" Killian asked softly.

I met his concerned gaze and swallowed, trying to mash down the bitter taste welling upwards from my stomach. "Your heart. These bruises – they're from someone's fingers. Someone tried to take your heart."

His eyes squinted before he blinked several times. "It's never caused bruising before."

"Before? What do you mean…_befor_e?" I felt my brow furrowing with a mix of concern and accusation.

"Aye, love. Twice I've been treated to that particular brand of pain; luckily neither thief ever took permanent hold. But as I've said, there were never any lingering marks."

A faint, but beautiful realization crept over my anxiety. "It's because it didn't work," I asserted, somehow knowing perfectly – without any concrete evidence – that whatever attempt had been made on Killian had failed. "Whoever it was couldn't do it."

Confusion presided over his features. He opened his mouth to speak but I cut him off. "No, think about it…" I sat up fully and placed my hand back over his chest. "When we bonded, I used my magic to connect us. My heart can't be taken. What if I transferred that protection to you?"

"Or, it could very well be that the miscreant was interrupted…" He smirked slightly. "…or had their own change of heart?"

"Maybe," I allowed, "but that brings us back to the bruises." I sorted through what little we knew about Killian's attack. "Who tried to take your heart before?"

His lips curled in a version of a very unimpressed sneer. "The crocodile," he began. Why was I not surprised? "And the Queen of Hearts herself."

_Well, looks like we have yet another thing in common_, I thought. "We can eliminate Cora. Gold is still a prime suspect. Other than that, Pan and Regina have the magic necessary to take a heart, though Pan is assumedly still trapped in Pandora's Box." I made a mental note to look into that.

Killian propped himself up, moving much easier this morning than he had last night. "I hate to further complicate the matter, but it really doesn't require magic to take a heart. After all, I've done it myself," he averted his eyes. Mine had widened enough for the both of us.

"Aurora?" He didn't answer; merely tilted his head slightly. I waited for a swift reaction of disgust or disappointment to wash over me, surprised when I merely felt pity. Through our link I knew he was remorseful for his actions in the Enchanted Forest, and from our conversation last night I knew it would take a long while before he moved past the 'waiting for the other shoe to drop' phase of our relationship. Now was not the time to reexamine past wrongs; not in the harsh light of day.

I covered the stump of his left arm with my hand, waiting for him to turn back to face me. His eyes were cautious, but loving. "If what you say is true than we haven't narrowed our list at all. You need to lie low until we know what's going on."

He brought his hand close to my cheek to brush a strand of hair away from my eyes. "As my lady wishes."

"Emma? Hook?" Mary Margaret's voice unexpectedly called from the hallway. The sound of her steps grew dangerously close to my bedroom. _She wouldn't just open the door, would she?_ "Are you two still in bed?" She asked, as the handle on my door began turning.

"Just a minute!" I yelled, hastily scrambling for my pants. I found Killian's shirt first and tossed it to him. Waiting until we were both fully dressed, I smoothed my hair back and casually opened the door. "What's up?"

Mary Margaret's eyes took a slow lap around my room, pausing on the rumpled sheets and my slightly breathless form. For once, she was tactful enough not to comment. "I just wanted to let you know we're back so we can head over to Hook's ship whenever you're ready."

"Let me just get changed and I'll be right down," I said, waiting for her to leave before closing the door. Turning back to Killian I asked, "Is there anything in particular you want, or should I just grab you some clothes?"

"You don't need to grab anything, love," he replied.

I smiled, a bit puzzled by his statement. "You can't possibly want to keep borrowing clothes from David."

He snorted. "Hardly. I just meant that I can gather my own things."

My smile vanished. "You're not going anywhere. You're still recovering, and didn't you hear what I just said about staying out of sight?"

"While it pleases me immensely to have your concern, darling, with all due respect, no one touches my things but me."

"Is that so?" I asked, stepping nearer to his personal space.

"Aye, love." He said seriously before his face broke into a stunning smile. His tongue traced his bottom lip as he ran his hand from my shoulder down along my side, curling it around my hip. "Of which you're included."

_Mine_. I remembered. I held back a delicious shiver, remembering back to when he made that declaration before fully claiming me. His smirk widened, flames returning to his shining eyes. _Someone is certainly feeling better_, I noted.

"Well then, Captain, I suppose we'd best be on our way." I eyed his very uncharacteristic attire and grinned. "Though, you might want to change first."

**E&K&E&K&E&K**

We arrived to the Jolly Roger ahead of my parents even though they'd left before us. They were dropping a load of boxes off to their new place before meeting us at the docks. I really wasn't sure why they felt it necessary to join us in the first place – Killian didn't have that many clothes – but with a look as unwavering as his moral compass, David made it plain that he intended to accompany us with or without a formal request.

"Someone's aboard my ship," Killian exclaimed with all the menace of his alter-ego as we approached the antiquated vessel. He quickened his steps, his body radiating the gathering of fury as I reached to grab his arm.

"Wait, you're not supposed to-"

It was a futile attempt. He was already halfway across the gangplank. I picked up my pace and hurried after him. _Of all the hot-tempered, health-forsaking, brain-addling, ridiculous pirates!_

The scene on deck was ripped from the pages of a mixed-up fairy-tale. Killian stood – hook at the ready – facing Leroy and his band of dwarves. "What's going on?" I asked, switching into my Sheriff's role.

"I'd bloody well like to know the same thing," Killian growled.

Leroy looked between us. "We're just here for the harp."

"What?" I stated; shifting my stance so that I was slightly between the dwarf and the angry pirate captain.

"Anton told us about the harp. How it can be used to put someone under a love enchantment," Leroy began. "It's obvious he's got you under some kind of spell," he pointed at Killian. I had to give Leroy credit; he didn't even waver under Killian's withering glare. Stepping over to me, he continued, "He's even got Snow wrapped around his finger! There's got to be some kind of magic involved."

_If only he knew_, I thought.

"I'll give you to the count of three to get the blazes off my ship before I handily remove you and your brethren myself." Killian threatened.

Looking back at Killian, I sent a silent message urging him to wait. He sighed audibly but stood back. "So your grand plan was to what…sneak aboard Captain Hook's ship, rifle through his things and hope he didn't notice?"

"He wasn't supposed to be here!" Doc chimed in. At least, I think it was Doc.

"Oh really?" Killian commented, his expression and posture adjusting to that of the rogue; a false sense of disinterest masking the sharp edge of his intellect. "And how's that?"

"You're supposed to be recovering," Doc continued. Leroy shushed him and waved his hand. _Not at all subtle_.

My eyes narrowed and I moved closer to Leroy. "Wait a minute; where were you yesterday when he was attacked?"

"Whoa, whoa! Now we had nothing to do with that, sister! We just want him to back off. He's bad news."

He was telling the truth, at least about not being involved with Killian's attack. I was _beyond_ tired of justifying my feelings, though. "Listen. You don't have to like that we're together…I really don't give a crap…but you'd better get used to it. I am not under any kind of spell!" I looked back to Killian. Something like admiration shone in his eyes, which in turn softened my heart.

Mary Margaret and David stepped aboard just as I finished my tirade. "Leroy? What's going on?" Mary Margaret inquired.

"Seems the dwarves believe I've ensorcelled you and your lovely daughter by way of an enchanted harp." Killian replied as he tucked his thumb into his belt loop. An expression of smug irritation swept across his face. "It's absurd, really; as if I'd need more than my stunning looks and dashing personality to capture a maiden's heart."

"_Laying it on a bit thick,"_ I mentally commented.

"_Sorry, love,"_ his voice whispered in my mind. My eyes widened. I would never get used to that particular quirk of our bond.

My mother's face darkened, her eyes like lasers honed on Leroy and the dwarves. What Captain Hook had been unable to do, Snow White achieved in less than five seconds. Leroy cowered. "Is that true?"

"You've gotta see this from our perspective. Last we knew he was the villain who stole the magical bean that was going to save our town. Then you show up home from Neverland and its all happy family?"

"He came back!" Mary Margaret threw her arms up. "Not to mention everything I already told you about Neverland!"

"He saved my life," David added, his hands firmly planted on his hips.

"How do we know he didn't use it on you, too?" Leroy shouted.

"It doesn't work on men!" David responded emphatically before suddenly turning to Killian and lowering his voice; "Right, Hook?"

Killian rolled his eyes. "Excellent show of faith, mate."

Perhaps realizing his theory was quickly sinking, Leroy backpedalled. "Anton can't find it. He swears he always carries his most valued treasures with him."

Killian huffed and straightened to his full height. His eyes burned with indignation and somehow I knew whatever was going to come out of his mouth would be anything but polite. "Why would I have need of a magical harp, Master Dwarf, when I had you to enlighten me to the effectiveness of sensual 'text-ting?'"

I'd never seen a dwarf blush. _Until now_. He turned toward Mary Margaret, contrition painted on his face and palms in the air. "I was only joking!"

"Look. This has got to stop," David said, directing his statement to all seven dwarves. "Whatever his past crimes, Hook is not the villain anymore."

"So he can just break the law and get away with it?" Leroy exclaimed, clearly not willing to let it go; at least not yet.

"You do realize you're the ones breaking the law now, right? Breaking and entering…" I turned to Killian. "Do you want to press charges?"

A smirk tilted his lips as he pretended to give it lengthy consideration. "I've often been told a quiet respite in the brig can do wonders for one's repentance, but as it appears no real harm was done, I suppose I can be generous." His eyes imparted a silent message to Leroy. "After all, I admit I may have committed several…transgressions…in the past. If they are willing to overlook my faults, than so shall I."

"Thank you, Hook," Mary Margaret said before eyeing Leroy and the dwarves rather intently. Six out of seven muttered an apology almost immediately. "We aren't going to have any more trouble, are we?" She asked Leroy.

"Sorry, sister," he conceded, his tone a bit grumpy.

"It's not me you should be apologizing to."

With the slightest sulk, he nodded his head once toward Killian. "No hard feelings?"

"Apology accepted, _mate_." Killian sassed. His face retained that somewhat unimpressed appearance, but our bond was beginning to pound with his fatigue, more than I think even he realized.

I cleared my throat. "As touching as this conversation has been, we've got places to be." I wasn't going to call attention to Killian's injury – not in front of the dwarves – but we really did need to focus on our original task. It was bad enough that he came along in the first place; this little confrontation couldn't have helped his recovery.

I wordlessly looked to David and Mary Margaret, gesturing with a quick jerk of my head for them to escort the uninvited guests back to land. Killian watched the troop of dwarves exit before heading below deck. I followed him to his cabin in silence, trying to keep the memories of what had happened in the small room just two nights ago in check. Now was not the time. Everything from his tense movements to the barely-restrained emotions in our connection broadcast his total annoyance at the situation as he surveyed his belongings. And I got it. The Jolly Roger was his home. It had been his only haven for three centuries. Having virtual strangers trespassing in his personal space must've been akin to an invasive medical exam; which he'd unfortunately also had to endure recently.

"One of those cretins sneezed all over my maps! I won't be able to tell if I'm looking at an island or the contents of his bulbous nose!" He complained, holding said map between his thumb and fingers.

I approached him from behind and rubbed my hands up his back then over his shoulders in a circular path. "Hey. I know you're mad; you have every right to be. But it could've been worse."

"Oh? And how's that?"

I pressed my front against his back and tucked my cheek against his shoulder blade, letting my hands wind around to his chest. "If you hadn't got your head knocked around we could have been doing that 'helm' thing when they got here."

His hand closed over one of mine and he turned so I somehow ended up in his embrace. "Is that right, Swan?" He nipped at my lips. "And tell me, in this fantasy of yours, do I successfully steer us to our heading?" He pulled me tightly to his body and flexed his hips, making me aware of his growing interest in our current topic of conversation.

"As if you need to ask," I grinned, secretly pleased at his insatiable libido and my success in distracting him from his anger. Gently, I ran my fingers through his thick hair – more to soothe than to inspire – but was halted as my eyes noticed a scrap of red fabric peeking out from beneath Killian's bed. Crouching down, I pulled it out to examine in the light.

"What is that?" Killian's voice was saturated with unease, and no small wonder.

Holding Smee's red stocking cap tightly in my fist, I replied. "It was under your bed. I didn't see it there the other night."

"Nor I." He concurred. Any levity I had gained with my flirtations sank underneath his sudden anger. "That scheming little rat! What the bloody hell was he doing aboard my ship?"

I winced in sympathy at his booming tone, imagining it would not be helpful to his concussion. "Killian," I soothed, "please calm down." Apparently it was the wrong thing to say.

"I will not be calm about this, love. You've no idea the lengths that man will go to get what he wants. And to think he was here, on my ship, where you and I…" he cut himself off, a hand going to his head. His chest rose quickly as he dragged in air. I felt his anger, definitely, but the driving force behind his reaction was fear. My brave, pirate-turned-hero was worried about me.

I approached him wordlessly, once again laying my palm against his broad back. "We don't know what he was doing here. That's not a comforting thought, I get that, but it seems to me he got interrupted." I held the hat up again as evidence. "He wouldn't have left this behind on purpose, right?"

"I suppose not," Killian replied, the anger leeching from his voice to be replaced with genuine weariness.

I nodded firmly. "Which means he made a mistake. We might not know what exactly he's up to, but we can assume that he's after something to do with you, at least for now."

"As crafty as he is – and it pains me to admit that – I don't envision him the sort to start collecting hearts."

"No. You're right. But this isn't a coincidence." The criminal justice part of my brain was already trying to string together all the clues we'd amassed into some sensible order. Only an hour or so ago, I'd believed whoever attacked Killian was the same who had tried to take his heart. But with the possible emergence of a past adversary in Smee, I had to allow there might be multiple players involved. It seemed the dwarves did have an issue with Killian, but were not responsible for yesterday. Yet they'd been on the ship at the same time we found evidence of another intruder. How was it possible they hadn't seen anything? And furthermore, I had to consider that just because we found Smee's hat did not mean he, himself, dropped it.

Killian appeared in my periphery. He tilted his head so that our eyes met. "The thoughts are flying across your face, love. Care to enlighten me?"

"I was just thinking that we keep getting new clues, but they're not doing much to lead us to what's going on. It seems too much of a coincidence for Smee to turn back up – or at least someone is making us think he did – without him being involved in your attack. But as you said, it's unlikely he was the one who caused your bruises."

He hummed once in agreement as he retrieved a large satchel from his wardrobe. "You're thinking this was a team effort," he concluded rather efficiently. His eyes met mine seriously. "I do have a fair bit of experience in the revenge business, love."

_Right_. "Do you notice anything else out of place?"

"No. Nothing is missing, either." His gaze swept the small room before settling back on my face. "There's nothing more for us to learn here. Shall we return to your apartment?"

I helped Killian gather a few of his belongings and the bulk of his clothes before he secured the lower decks with several padlocks. Mary Margaret and David were waiting near their truck when we stepped over the gangplank and followed the short pier to the parking lot. There was no trace of the dwarves or anyone else for that matter.

"Leroy asked us to apologize again on his behalf. There was some talk of him owing you a beer the next time we're all at Granny's," Mary Margaret stated.

"How thoughtful of him," Killian remarked as he settled his bag in the back of my Beetle.

I scanned the open lot cautiously before looking to David. "Did you see anyone else around aside from the dwarves?"

"No one," he answered. "Why, did you find something?"

I showed him the hat. "It seems we may have another suspect for our list."

David's eyes narrowed before he, too checked the area. "Come on. Let's get you both home." He waited until Killian and I were both buckled in my car before he and Mary Margaret settled in their truck and followed us back to the apartment. The ride home was silent. I think both of us were jointly processing everything that had occurred while keeping an eye on our surroundings.

Stepping into the apartment, it was obvious to me that the weight of our midday encounter had visibly taken a toll on Killian, though he'd be too proud to admit it. For someone just getting over a concussion he was doing remarkably well – swearing he had no further symptoms – though I _had_ woken him frequently during the night. It was no wonder he was exhausted. I was too, for that matter, but I had further work to do before I would rest.

"You should go lie down for awhile." He started to protest and I raised my hand. "I know you're feeling better, but you are still recovering. Besides, there's not a hell of a lot we can do at the moment. Please, Killian; for me?"

His rigid stance deflated as he sighed. "What about you, love? You hardly slept last night."

"I'm okay. If I get too tired I'll come lay down with you," I promised. It wasn't technically a lie. He stared at me long and hard. I could almost detect his side of the connection probing against mine, seeking the truth, or the very least what I was hiding. I focused on projecting assurance both in my expression and in my mind. It wasn't that I wanted to trick him; I just knew he would never stay back if he suspected what I was planning to do. And while we did make an excellent team most of the time, he was too irrational when it came to dealing with his former nemesis. Noticing he still hadn't budged, I laughed. "I'm just going to help Mary Margaret and David load some of their stuff into their truck. I wouldn't let you help with that anyways, at least not today, so you may as well listen to me."

"Alright, love. If you insist." He popped the 't' in that teasing way of his.

"I do," I affirmed. "We'll check on you in a little while."

"Yes, mum." If he were aware of the custom of sticking out one's tongue, I suspected he would've done it in that moment. Instead, he stepped into my space and gently clasped the back of my head in his hand, bringing our lips together in a lingering kiss. "Something to inspire my dreams," he winked before heading up the stairs and into the bedroom.

I actually did carry several boxes down the stairs, lending some accuracy to what I'd told Killian, but after about twenty minutes I made my excuses to Mary Margaret and David before setting off to find the one person to which all my inner theorizing kept leading back to: Gold.

The bell above the pawn shop door rang merrily as I stepped across the threshold. My eyes immediately found Gold fiddling with some of his collected oddities behind the main counter. "Ah. Sheriff Swan. To what do I owe the great pleasure?"

I smoothed some of my hair away from my face as I approached him. "I'm surprised you're here; figured you'd spend the weekend with Belle," I remarked.

"Money doesn't care what day it is, Dearie," he responded as he set a crystal orb onto a stand within the glass case. "But I doubt you're here to discuss the economy."

"I'm here about Hook's accident," I stated bluntly. No use beating around the bush.

He smiled with false sincerity. "Ah yes; I was sorry to hear about our dear Captain's unfortunate accident."

"Were you," I commented, waiting to see how much more of a lie I could catch him in. My brow arched toward the ceiling.

"You're not suggesting I was involved?" He paused, his expression bordering on condescension. "If I wanted the pirate dead, he would be." _Truth_. "Might I suggest that your new beau has made a fair few enemies in this town, some with far less…flair than I?"

I pulled the red hat out of my coat pocket and set it on the counter in front of Gold. "What can you tell me about this?"

"A crocheted cap. How mysterious," he flared his eyes.

"It belongs to Smee. He's been missing since before we left for Neverland. You were one of the last people seen with him."

"Was I?" He tilted his head ever so slightly. "How very interesting. Last I was aware he was being a bit of a pest toward Belle. I've no idea where he is now." His statement was the kind of truth chased by a shade of bitterness. Killian called him a crocodile; I preferred eel. He was certainly slippery enough.

"I found this on the Jolly Roger. It wasn't there yesterday."

"Well, there you have it! It seems you've got your suspect. I'll be sure to let you know if I come across the unfortunate fellow."

"Not good enough."

He assessed me seriously, his brown eyes cool and calculating. "What is it you want from me exactly?"

I wanted him to explain the bruises on Killian's chest. I wanted him to admit he tried to take his heart, and then tell me why. But until I knew for sure how he was involved, I was reluctant to fully tip my hand. "I want the truth. You know something," I accused.

"As I said; there are plenty of people who wouldn't mind seeing the pirate six feet under, and not knowing about your…bond, well, that would be positively tragic. You should have been more careful who you hitched yourself to."

A block of ice lodged itself in my heart, creeping slowly through my veins.

Perhaps noticing the effect his words were having, he hit one final mark. "Do be more vigilant, Sheriff. The pirate, too for that matter. It would be an absolute shame if your boy lost his mother…again."

"Is that a threat?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"Now why would I threaten you – the mother of my grandchild?" He retorted, a bit exasperated. That innocent little smile which I'd always found to be more sinister than pleasing settled on his lips.

Our eyes locked in silent challenge. For my part, I was never sure to what depravity Gold would allow his magic to drive him. He was anything but the stereotypical grandfather, and his Storybrooke persona did almost too good of a job hiding his dark interior. I also hadn't fully pieced together what would motivate him to take Killian's heart, if in fact he was involved. Aside from pressuring me to be honest with Neal, he'd been oddly interested in seeing my bond with Killian succeed. That alone had been enough to rouse my suspicion, but the why of it all was still annoyingly elusive.

My cell sounded from my back pocket. I answered it without looking. "Emma?" Killian's voice sounded strange.

"Killian?"

There was a bit of a pause on the other end which did nothing to ease the anxiety Gold had already stirred. Just as I was about to say hello again, he spoke louder, "Can you hear me, love?"

"Yeah, what's wrong?" I shifted the phone to my other ear and stepped toward the front window of the shop, as far from Gold as possible without actually leaving.

"I wanted to ask you the same thing. Are you alright?"

Noticing Gold's interest, I lowered my voice to a whisper. "I'm fine."

"You were frightened," Killian stressed.

"You felt that?"

"It woke me…And you were gone." I could hardly ignore the hurt and disappointment in his tone.

"I had some Sheriff business to deal with."

He sighed, the sound seemingly amplified by the technology between us. "Where are you?"

I considered stretching the truth again, knowing he wouldn't be pleased to know I'd come here without him and even less so that I hadn't even told him about it. But there was no way of talking around it. He'd know it was an outright lie if I claimed to be somewhere I wasn't. My earlier decision had been born from wanting to protect him. Lying now would be an outright betrayal. "Gold's shop."

The silence returned, only this time I could guess why. "I see," he finally commented. His voice lacked any emotion, which was almost as telling as if he'd shouted. "Are you alright?" He repeated.

"Yes." I closed my eyes and my hand moved to cover my heart. His outpouring of concern nearly chased away the unease I'd felt.

"Is it a productive meeting?"

I considered what I'd learned since walking into the shop. While I didn't have any tangible evidence, my superpower was fairly certain Gold was somehow involved. "Yes and no. I can't really say."

His voice was a bit strained when he spoke again. "I should be there with you."

"Killian…" I sighed. "I'm sorry, it's just…we'll talk about it when I get home." The 'please' was heavily implied in my tone.

"Aye, love," he agreed. "We will." There was a slight shuffling across the line before the call was disconnected. Apparently, I needed to teach him about saying goodbye before hanging up.

"Problem, Dearie?" Gold asked. Turning back, I noticed Belle had joined him.

I offered her a tight smile before answering him. "Everything's fine."

"Rumpel told me about Hook's attack. I hope he'll be alright?" Belle asked with genuine care. For the hundredth time, I wondered how someone as sweet and accepting as Belle found her match in the Dark One.

"Uh yeah…he's fine."

"Good. I hope you catch the one who hurt him."

"Thanks," I said.

Belle's eyes noticed Smee's cap. She picked it up, frowning deeply as if it had bitten her. "Where did this come from?"

Rumpel's hand closed over Belle's, gently taking the hat from her and handing it over to me. "You needn't worry over him. He'll never get near you again." She turned to him and all the worry on her face melted away. I had wondered over their unique relationship only moments ago, but here was a very visible reminder of just how much she loved him. Watching him handle her – his fingertips gentle on her skin, the softness in his eyes, and the genuine lift of a smile – it was clear as glass that he loved her, too. Desperately so.

"If that's all, Sheriff?" Gold asked, effectively dismissing me.

"For now. You'll be sure to let me know if you hear anything?"

"Of course," he grinned again. Not liking the way his eyes flickered to my chest then back to my face, I returned the favor with my own closed-lip smile. Neither reached our eyes.

Heading toward the door, I was surprised to find Belle just a step behind. "I'm off to the library. Are you headed that way?" I wasn't – not really – but I agreed to join her to see what else she might tell me about her significant other. We walked in awkward silence at first before she settled on small talk. "So what did you think of Lumiere's?"

My steps faltered slightly, not prepared to be reminded of that night. "Oh. It's nice?" It really shouldn't have sounded like a question, but aside from the décor, I didn't have much to comment on.

She laughed. "It's alright. Honestly, I was a bit surprised that he brought you there."

I smiled, whole-heartedly agreeing. "Not really our scene." I felt myself relax a bit in Belle's comforting presence. I was only partly familiar with her real story, but what I did know of it was riddled with tragedy. Yet despite everything, she maintained an optimism that exceeded even my mother's.

"I really am happy for you both. Pardon me if I'm being too forward, but I think it's wonderful that you found each other at last."

She touched on something I'd wondered about for awhile. Belle was by nature an extremely forgiving person, but forgiving someone and blessing them were entirely different things. "You're very generous, given your past with Hook."

"I've just never seen the use in dwelling on the past. Granted, I don't know him well, but from our previous encounters it seemed clear that Hook was unhappy. Like Rumpel, he didn't make the best choices, but that doesn't make him bad. There is good in everyone if only you are willing to look for it. Willing to fight for it. And now that Hook's found his happiness, it's easy for his goodness to shine."

We reached the library entrance just as she finished speaking. Her words struck a deep chord in me, and I truly felt like I finally understood Belle. Finally understood her unusual relationship with Gold, and I was glad for her...for both of them. "Thank you," I said softly.

"I'll talk to Rumpel again later; see if there isn't anything else I can find out about Hook's attack." I smiled and nodded before heading back toward the apartment.

My thoughts were swimming with the trail of clues and suspects, as well as what Belle had said about love and happiness. But no matter how I tried to wade through them, all my thoughts kept coming back to Killian's heart. I had restarted his heart in the Dark Hollow, and then bound it to mine in order to save his life. Someone – my money was on Gold – wanted to take it, but had failed. No matter what Killian said about the person just getting interrupted, I believed my magic had fundamentally changed him. I just wasn't sure how.

An idea took root; just a fragile seed that wasn't quite ready to fully sprout. Not without a clearer path. Considering everything that I'd learned and all that remained a mystery, it seemed I should be working toward establishing a plausible motive – one that involved possessing a heart – in order to sow the final conclusion. Making a split second decision, I changed the course of my footsteps and headed toward the home of the one person in Storybrooke who knew more about the reasons for taking a heart than possibly anyone save Rumpelstiltskin himself.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: I hope you enjoyed the read! I've never fancied myself much of a mystery writer, but I promise I've put A LOT of thought into which clues to leave when. Additionally, I just wanted to comment that I've never been one to frivolously write adult situations. If they're in my story, they are they to move the plot or character development along in some way. Sure, they may be a bit more…intimate…than they need to be, but this is Emma and Hook we're talking about. (And as they are a new couple, things get a little intense at times.)

Review? Theory? (Thanks in advance!)


	16. Sparking Tension

**A/N**: Angst and passion ahead…this one earned its M.

**Chapter 16**

**Sparking Tension**

"Miss Swan?" Regina's surprised tone perfectly matched the cautious bewilderment on her face. She opened her front door a touch further, though not enough to allow a passerby to see inside.

"I need to talk to you," I stated, perhaps a bit obviously.

Stepping fully onto the front porch, she crossed her arms over her chest. "What sort of horrific catastrophe is it this time?" She began, before a different consideration must have crossed her thoughts. "Is Henry alright?"

"He's fine. I just need some…advice." The admission tasted almost sour, at least that's how it made me feel. Sure, Regina and I were enjoying a kind of truce, but the absolute last thing I wanted to do was open myself up to more of her ridicule.

Her sculpted brow arched. "From me? Well, this _is_ a surprise. You must be desperate." She carefully scanned my face before stepping aside in the universal symbol of 'come in.' I waited for her to close the door before following her to the dining room. She took a seat at the head of the table and folded her palms before her, the very picture of her mayoral role. "So, what is it that you need?"

I'd thought about what to say the entire walk over but still only had the loosest of plans. It wasn't that I didn't trust Regina, but our ceasefire was too new to predict how she would react in all situations. When it came to Henry, I felt fairly confident she'd put him above everything else. But there was no love lost between her and Killian. To enlist her help was taking a chance; caution was warranted. "It's about Hook," I said plainly as I slid into a chair across from her.

She smirked. "Really, Miss Swan; I am hardly the person to be giving advice about relationships. You must have me confused with that hapless _fairy_."

Ignoring her comment, I plowed ahead. "Someone tried to take his heart."

"And of course you thought of me." Her expression darkened.

I shook my head lightly. "Not in that way." I tried to reassure her, offering a tiny smile. "I need to know the mechanics of it. How and why it's done."

She laughed once, sharply. "My, my; is the Savior thinking of joining the dark side?"

"No more than the Evil Queen is about joining a quilt circle," I contested.

"Touche." Her face lifted with amusement. "I assume you already have a suspect, then?"

I leaned back in the chair before clasping my own hands in front of me, not quite willing to reveal anything more, yet. "Let's just call it research."

She smirked again. "Taking a heart is almost as easy as passing a warm knife through a stick of butter once the mind is set. It presents very little in the way of a physical challenge, but mentally? That's an entirely different undertaking. It requires true conviction and the will to dominate or possess, as that's the general reason for taking it in the first place."

I leaned forward. "What happens if the conviction isn't strong enough? Or, the person gets interrupted?"

"Nothing," she replied.

"What do you mean _nothing_?"

She gestured with her hands as she retorted, "Exactly as I said. The hand will not pass into the chest unless the proper conditions are met."

Her explanation only added to my suspicions. "Killian…Hook, has bruises over his heart."

She shifted in her seat. "That's unusual."

"But not impossible?" I added.

"Whoever was attempting to take his heart must have exerted a lot of pressure."

"But they failed," I concluded. The hope I'd fostered that morning strengthened cautiously.

Her condescending smirk returned. "You'd know that better than I, wouldn't you?"

Once again ignoring her, I asked, "Is it possible Hook's heart can't be taken?"

I could tell my question caught her slightly off guard. Her haughty façade faded into genuine consideration. "Only a very powerful magic can protect a heart." Narrowing her eyes, she continued, "There's something you're not telling me."

I considered telling her about the bond, but at this point even I didn't fully understand it. Given its potential implications, I was pretty sure the fewer people who knew about it, the better. But, it was also clear I wouldn't get much further with Regina if I didn't show a little bit of my hand. I sighed in concession. "I suspect Gold is involved. And as he was your teacher, I figured if anyone has an insight into what he's doing, it would be you."

She scoffed. "Please. As if he shares his internal machinations with anyone. Not even his true love knows what's going on in that head of his."

"You said the main purpose for possessing a heart is to control another person."

She almost rolled her eyes. "I can't imagine he'd be interested in controlling the pirate. It's not like he poses much of a threat. Nor is he particularly useful now that he's all _Team Hero_." She turned to me. "No offense."

"None taken," I replied, just a bit perturbed at the ease in which she dismissed Killian.

"Though, if what you say is true, it would also be unusual for Rumpelstiltskin to have any difficulty taking the heart to begin with." She looked thoughtful again. "And you're sure he didn't succeed?"

"I'm sure," I affirmed, feeling the steady warmth of my bond with Killian alive and well in my chest, albeit a touch strained at the moment.

She held her hands up. "I'm sorry, but perhaps you do have the wrong man," she stated.

I knew it was a possibility that it wasn't Gold, but I couldn't shake the sensation that I was right about him. It was the same feeling I had about Tamara, and like that particular situation, I had no idea what could possibly be motivating him.

Regina sighed with annoyance before stating, "I don't know how you expect me to help you if you insist on hiding things from me. Either you trust me or you don't." I looked at her, a bit taken aback by her rather sudden frustration. "Might I remind you that it was you who sought me out?"

She was right, though it didn't make it any easier. "Your mother tried to take my heart once, but she couldn't. My magic prevented it."

Her eyes lit with sudden comprehension. "Of course…the product of true love."

"What if I somehow passed that protection to Hook?"

She laughed. "Well did you? You know full well a spell can temporarily guard a heart."

"Not that I remember." I imagined she was referring to what she'd done to Henry in order to protect him.

"You must have. The only other way would be transferring magic through a soul binding, but those are only legend." Something in my face must have tipped her off. Maybe I was too quiet, or maybe my brows lifted. Regardless, the mirth on her lips disappeared from one second to the next. "You? And the _pirate_? Gold said it couldn't be done. He swore…not without a heart…"

Crackles of red flame appeared in her hand just as her posture hardened. She rose to her feet. "Regina, what are you – "

Her eyes were focused on her front door as she spoke. "It's time for you to go, Miss Swan."

"But I was hoping you would test my theory about his heart…" I slowly rose from my chair.

"Leave." That one word was laced with a thousand emotions. Her dark eyes bled to nearly obsidian as she fought to maintain control of them and her magic. In all the various encounters I'd had with her, I'd never seen her look more like her infamous alter-ego.

I paused by the door, looking back at her with all the fortitude I could gather, before stepping out onto the porch. Intimidating as she could be, it did not escape my notice that this was not an attempt to frighten me, but rather an inner struggle with her own emotions. Whatever I'd said to tick her off, she was no longer in a sharing mood. Though, I'd gotten more from her than I expected.

Walking back to the apartment took almost as much courage as facing down Maleficent in her dragon form. The closer I got to the front door, the more obvious Killian's emotions were through our link. I already knew from his phone call that he didn't approve of my decision to see Gold alone, and I could understand why. But he needed to realize I was not some damsel in distress waiting for him to protect or rescue me.

I noticed Mary Margaret first as I crept through the door. She was glancing at a newspaper while sitting at the kitchen counter. Sweeping my eyes over the first floor of the loft, I saw Henry and Killian seated side by side on the couch, thoroughly engrossed in a movie. As I recognized which one, my eyes shot to a very bemused Mary Margaret. "He asked what people of this realm thought about pirates. Since we don't have any of the Peter Pan movies, this was Henry's next suggestion," she whispered, holding her hand next to her mouth to hide her words. Not that it was necessary; neither of the boys seemed to notice I'd even walked in.

Killian's voice was full of indignation as he loudly commented, "He calls himself a captain?" He motioned toward the screen with his hook, openly incredulous at Captain Jack Sparrow's attempt to befuddle the Royal Navy. "He's making a mockery of the lot of us," he grumbled to Henry.

I approached the living room cautiously. "I don't know; he got the eye-liner right," I commented deadpan.

Killian's head turned toward me, finally noticing my arrival. His eyes lit up for a split second then fell, adopting a steely resolve. "Welcome home," he said remotely before pretending to reengage in the film.

_This is going to be so much fun_, my mental sarcasm sighed. I sat down in one of the chairs and forced myself to look at the television even though my attention was firmly fixed three foot away on a leather-clad pirate who no doubt could show the cast and crew a thing or two about sailing. I'd seen this movie in my old life, in a time when even my wildest dreams wouldn't have concocted my current reality. _I dunno, Emma, you used to think Captain Jack was pretty sexy, _my conscience teased. So I apparently had a type. Sue me.

The three of us watched the remainder of the movie in relative silence. Every now and then Henry would point out something and ask Killian's opinion of its accuracy. I may as well have been invisible if it weren't for the twinge of discomfort assailing my heart every few minutes. From the corner of my eye, I'd catch Killian looking away as if he'd just been staring at me rather than the screen. The whole situation could've been an amazing moment with my two loves, but I felt awkward and on edge. I knew a long talk was coming, I just hoped he'd be willing to listen.

"We should totally take the Jolly Roger to the Caribbean sometime!" Henry suggested as the credits began to roll. He turned to look at the two of us with excitement gleaming on his face.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, both incredibly pleased that Henry had accepted Killian so quickly, but also a bit unsure of how to react. The captain in question would barely even acknowledge me at the moment, let alone make happy plans for the future.

"Tell me lad, are there still pirates in this car-i-be-yan of yours?" Killian questioned in jest. I breathed a tiny sigh of relief that whatever his feelings toward me at the moment, he did not take them out on Henry.

"Only if you're a tourist," I laughed, trying to lighten the mood. Henry chuckled with me while Killian looked slightly unimpressed.

Mary Margaret joined us with her cell phone in her hand. "Charming just called. He's unloaded the last of our things at the new house and wanted to know if we'd like to meet him at Granny's for dinner?"

"Sounds great to me," Henry readily agreed. He hopped off the couch and grabbed his jacket from the front closet.

"Emma? Will you and Hook join us?" She glanced between us, her expression growing more intuitive with every passing second.

Once again my eyes flickered to Killian, as eager for his answer as she was. We really needed to talk. Alone. Would he continue this passive-aggressive-ignore-Emma stance or would he stay and face me?

"Thank you for the invitation, but in my current state I'm not sure I'd be the best company. Perhaps once I'm fully recovered…" he spoke carefully around the truth. Not that he fooled Mary Margaret.

"Alright, well, I'll just take Henry, then. I hope you feel more _recovered_ later," she lifted a brow in Killian's direction before leveling a heavy look on me.

"I'm staying, too," I confirmed quietly.

Mary Margaret nodded. "I figured. We'll be back in about an hour." It was a warning more than anything else. She ushered Henry from the apartment with her hand on his back, meeting my eyes one final time. I smiled tightly and returned her nod.

The click of the door handle twisting back into place echoed through the tense atmosphere surrounding us. I didn't need a magical soul connection to feel the disappointment radiating from him in thick waves. We sat wordlessly in the living room as the end credit music eventually drifted into silence. I stood and turned off the movie then met his gaze with difficulty, unused to the heavy judgment blanketing his love for me. It was the kind of weight which drew forth an apology, whether warranted or not. But a simple "I'm sorry" wouldn't fix this, especially considering I wasn't sorry for what I'd done, only sorry in the way I'd gone about it. "I know you're upset," I began.

"Oh really? And what gave it away?" he replied, his voice sarcastic and snappish in a manner I hadn't heard him direct toward me in what felt like months.

_I guess I deserved that_, I thought a bit miserably. "Thank you…for being so good with Henry."

He scoffed. "What were you expecting? That I'd take my frustration out on your son? Or is it that you're surprised a pirate can be kind to children?" The irritation was heavily dosed with his hurt. I'd done that.

"No, of course not! I just, it means a lot to me that you're getting along so well." I took a step closer to him, hating our distance almost as much as his tone. "I couldn't have you there, at Gold's…" I tried to explain.

A pulse as visceral as if I'd slapped him slammed into my chest. He swallowed thickly before tightening his expression. "Is that so?" His head shook infinitesimally. "And why's that?"

It sounded like a dare, but his reactions – the small jolt of panic in our bond – alerted me to the truth and I rushed to console him. "Because I can't have you near that man until I know what he's after," I confessed, sitting stiffly on the other end of the couch.

His eyes softened by degrees though his frame remained rigid and unmoving. "We're supposed to be a team, Emma. I'm no less concerned over your well-being than you are for mine. How do you imagine I felt when I awake to not only find you gone, but gone to confront the very sorcerer who has taken my love before?"

I appreciated his sentiment and felt the guilt creeping into my consciousness, but his emotional response only confirmed my initial reasoning. "That only proves my point. You and Gold have a thin enough truce as it is. I bring you in there with your centuries-worth of anger at one another and who knows what would have happened?"

His jaw tightened. "Was Belle there?"

"Yes." My eyes narrowed with faint suspicion. "I don't see why that matters."

"It matters because it means nothing would have happened," he spoke matter-of-factly, daring to look me dead in the eyes.

"How could you possibly predict – "

He exhaled sharply before shifting over so close to me that I could feel the line of heat from his body. "You know why," he spoke quietly. His blue eyes burned into mine – that shroud of anger giving way to the intensity of his feelings for me – and suddenly I knew. For all their differences, the one thing the pirate and the crocodile agreed on completely was love. They would protect it at all costs, even if that meant swallowing their pride and stowing their anger.

"I told you before that I can take care of myself; you don't need to worry so much," I whispered.

"You _were_ frightened," he asserted.

"For you! For Henry!" I gestured wildly.

He shook his head. "You do not value your own worth enough, Emma."

His reply hung heavily in the air like the intense atmospheric pressure before a riotous storm. My thoughts scattered, trying to formulate into some semblance of a response, but the sounding of three staccato knocks on the front door pulled my focus. Our eyes remained locked in a silent agreement; this _discussion_ was far from done. Neither of us spoke or moved until the knocks repeated. I shook my head and marched to the door, opening it a bit more aggressively than necessary.

"Regina?" I exclaimed with genuine surprise. After the way things escalated only an hour before, I was afraid to consider what possible reason would result in her standing in my doorway.

"Might I come in?" She asked coolly.

"Yeah…I guess. Come in." I stepped back to let her pass. She looked around the apartment with only the faintest trace of disdain. As her eyes settled on Killian – now leaning against the pillar in the center of the room – her entire bearing changed, the regal queen overtaking the frosty mayor.

She assessed him seriously. "You're certainly looking recovered for someone who sustained a concussion only yesterday."

He swept his arm in front of his body in a mockery of a courtly bow. "How kind of you to notice, your majesty; must be my excellent genes."

"Or magic." She stepped closer to him and that protective guard over our bond reacted instinctively. "You're positively drenched in it. It's no wonder you're already healed."

"Healed?" I echoed.

"Yes." She turned to look at me with condescension. "Don't tell me you weren't aware of that, either?" My answering glare was all the reply she needed. With an indulgent sigh she continued, "This is why you can't just turn a blind eye on your magic, no matter how willfully ignorant you prefer to be." She tugged absentmindedly at her gloves. "Now, Captain, if you don't mind taking a seat, I'll just –"

He didn't let her finish, his face altering into an open expression of caution and discontentment. "Perhaps one of you lovely ladies would care to explain to me what you're talking about?" While the words were pleasant enough, the warning tone was not.

I glanced at him a bit warily, knowing our strained conflict had just intensified exponentially, and really reluctant to make it worse. "I asked Regina about taking hearts."

"You _what_?" he shouted. His disappointment rolled off him in waves.

"You didn't tell him?" She smirked. "Even I'm not that clueless about relationships."

"I was going to," I argued, looking between him and her as I scrambled for what to say. She was equal parts smug and exasperated; he hadn't appeared this hurt since I'd chained him in Anton's treasure room. Of the two, I cared a hell of a lot more about his feelings. "Look, it was a spur of the moment idea. I figured she'd be able to confirm my theory about whether or not your heart can be taken." My eyes pleaded with him silently

"And I'm supposed to what, willingly allow the Evil Queen to attempt to take my heart? Never mind the unnecessary discomfort?"

"What do you mean _unnecessary_?" I glared at him. "We need to know how much danger you're really in."

"Hadn't you already deduced my heart is well protected just this morning?" His eyes glinted like firelight off of cold steel.

"It was only a theory…I need to be sure!"

"Oh good grief!" Regina exclaimed before stalking over to Killian and thrusting her hand at his chest. I gasped and startled forward as his body bucked away from her abrupt attack. A telltale white light flared between his skin and her hand. She pulled her fingers away and cradled them against her chest. "Congratulations. It seems you were right, Miss Swan. His heart cannot be taken."

"Don't you bloody well ever try that again!" Killian growled. His left arm twitched as he fought to keep his hook by his side. I could completely sympathize; my heartbeat thundered through my body, though in fear rather than anger.

Regina appraised him with a glower. "Did you just threaten me? And here I am doing you a favor." Dismissing him, she turned to me and added, "Seems you've been even less forthcoming than I accused you of earlier. This bond of yours, how in the world did you manage it?"

Killian sighed loudly before striding from the room and up the stairs. I called after him but he didn't even pause. The emotion blasting through our link was almost indescribable. _How did everything get so messed up? _My natural instinct was to follow after him, but the raw ache in my chest was as effective as a fence between me and his retreating form.

"Seems you've got your hands full with that one," Regina commented. "Given he's only got the one, he's well and truly screwed when it comes to you." I barely reacted to her snide taunt. My own thoughts were vacillating between panic and sadness, wondering what he was planning to do.

"What are you doing here?" I asked quietly, worrying my lip with teeth.

He lips twisted into a frown. "Is that supposed to be a joke? You _asked_ for my help."

My eyes shifted between her and the stairs. "But what made you change your mind? You seemed pretty against it earlier."

"This bond…Rumpelstiltskin helped you create it, didn't he?" She asked.

I focused on her face dimly before snapping, "Yes. Does it matter?"

She pursed her lips again as her head shook almost imperceptibly. When she spoke again, the simmering tension from earlier was evident once more. "Why _you_?"

I blinked several times. "Excuse me?"

"For years I sought a way to restore Daniel. I heard of the soul bond and attempted to enlist Rumpelstiltskin's help. But he claimed it was impossible, not without his heart." Bitterness filled her tone even as her eyes were shadowed by her own past tragedies.

I pieced together the little I knew of Regina's first love, thinking back to the reanimated corpse which had nearly attacked Henry in the stables nearly a year ago. Then, like now, I'd truly seen the woman Regina once was. Love was the most dangerous and powerful magic of all. Isn't that what fairytales always taught us? Though, it didn't really offer me much insight into our current situation. Gold was not overly fond of me or Killian. Why would he care about our love? "But the bond is already formed, so why would he want the heart now?" I thought aloud.

"Why does he do anything?" She huffed. "I know you all think we're bosom friends, but he really isn't the type to confess his deepest, darkest secrets over coffee. If he did try to take your pirate's heart, it is just as likely he was testing you, as it is he had an actual purpose. And you don't even know that it was him to begin with."

She was right. When it came down to it, the only evidence linking Gold to the attack wasn't evidence at all. As great as my intuition was, it was not enough to act rashly. "Either way, he can't take Killian's heart," I commented softly. The muffled sound of heavy footsteps pacing above our head sent my thoughts warring once more. My fists clenched uselessly at my sides as I focused on taking slow, deep breaths. I pushed against our bond, trying to glimpse his thoughts, but I was met with the likeness of a brick wall.

Regina's annoyed face suddenly filled my vision and I noticed dimly that she'd been speaking. "Did you even hear a word I just said?" I tried to process what had been said, I really did, but those heavy steps left my room and traveled toward the stairs. From my periphery, Killian descended to our level and crossed to the kitchen, neglecting to make eye-contact with either of us.

I watched him closely as he filled a glass with water and drank it down in several large swigs. Outwardly, he appeared as cool and collected as usual; any trace of his previous irritation gone. But to me, he was becoming as easy to read as my own reflection. The invisible tether between us was tense and jagged like a wound awaiting sutures. I wanted so badly to cross the few steps to his side but the presence of Regina held me in place.

The glass clinked dully as he set it in the sink. Turning, he propped himself against the counter, crossing his legs at the ankle and his arms over his chest in that devil-may-care way of his. The gleam of his metal hook matched the carefully leashed anger hiding in his blue eyes. "So, what did I miss this time?" The deeper meaning of that question was not lost on me. In that moment, he was very much Hook; not my Killian.

Regina looked between us silently. Her mouth tightened into a serious line, though she didn't care to explain what had caused the expression. "As much as it pains me to suggest this, you're more likely to get the answers you need by speaking with someone who knows more about…love." She cleared her throat. "Particularly bonds. Have you thought to seek the advice of one of the fairies?"

"It's not a terrible idea," I replied, glancing to Killian to gauge his reaction to the suggestion.

He smiled, though it held all the sincerity of a kid being forced to apologize. "Whatever you think is best, _darling_. Or, what is that sentiment men of this realm use… '_Yes dear_?'" Some of my concern bled into faint irritation. I understood he was upset, but couldn't he be mature? At least while Regina was there?

"We're home!" Henry's voice boomed through the opening front door. "We brought you guys some take out," he added before noticing Regina. "Mom?" He stepped over and hugged her. "What are you doing here?"

She smiled down at him. "I had some town business to discuss with our Sheriff." Her eyes met mine pointedly before quickly sweeping over Killian. She added, "But I was wondering if you'd like to have another sleepover?"

Henry looked to me. "Can I?"

I considered the tension radiating between Killian and I, knowing another argument was looming in my near future. "Yeah, Kid. Just, try to get your homework done."

"Let me just grab my stuff." He called, already racing up the stairs.

Mary Margaret and David joined us in the kitchen area, placing a large brown paper bag in the refrigerator as they greeted Regina. She nodded curtly to both of them before stepping out into the hallway.

"Do I want to know why she was here?" Mary Margaret asked, once again trying to assess the atmosphere she'd stepped into.

"She was actually helping us try to figure out something to do with the bond," I explained.

Her glance lingered on Killian for a long moment before she turned back to David. "We were thinking about staying at the new place tonight. It's already furnished, and our stuff is there…"

Killian straightened and moved to stand behind me. His presence turned out to be even more distracting than his absence. "Um yeah, that makes sense." I swallowed as I realized it meant Killian and I would be alone. _Isn't that what you wanted?_ My mind posed.

Henry shot down the stairs and wrapped me in a quick hug before heading to the door. "Pick me up tomorrow afternoon?" He asked.

"Absolutely," I agreed, smiling for his benefit.

He grinned and waved back at us. "See ya later, Killian!"

My heart skipped a beat. _Killian?_ Apparently they had bonded more than I thought.

David took in our strained posture. "Is there something going on here?"

"Whatever do you mean, mate?" Killian challenged, somehow able to channel the playful rogue despite the emotions roiling through us both. I felt the curve of his hook rest against my hip. David's eyes narrowed.

"We're fine. Really. We'll probably just watch a movie and go to bed early." I tried to placate him before again remembering I wasn't a child. My chin jutted forward a touch.

"Of course everything's fine," Mary Margaret smiled as she tried to lead David toward the door.

He resisted her, his eyes focused on me. "I know this is new for you. For all of us. But Emma, please remember that he's not the only one that loves you. And if something were to happen to you, he wouldn't be the one having to suffer with that loss."

My mouth opened slightly, preparing to speak, but how did you respond to that?

"Next time, don't be so convinced you have to go it alone," he finished before he laced his fingers with Mary Margaret and the two of them left.

It was so silent in the apartment that I could hear the tightness of Killian's breathing. It matched my own. For the second time in only an hour, I had to gather my courage to face the man I loved. I turned slowly, letting his hook fall away from my side.

"You told _her_ about the bond," he stated immediately. His voice was sharp and filled with disappointment.

I looked up swiftly, a bit surprised at his sudden start. "Not really. She guessed."

He shifted his weight to his other foot. "That wasn't entirely your decision to make."

"She's helping us." I shrugged. It sounded lame even to my ears.

"For now."

My brows lifted. "Are you saying you don't trust her, or you don't trust _me_?"

"Well actually, I've said neither. Though, perhaps it is you who lacks faith in me?"

I huffed. "Don't be ridiculous. I trust you."

He crossed his arms over his chest. "Do you? Do you really?"

My hands rose into the air. "Of course! We've already been over this!"

"Aye, you've explained about the crocodile, and while I still don't agree with your decision to exclude me from the interrogation, I can at least understand your motivation. But what danger did I face in seeing the queen?"

"I didn't even think – " I started to say but he cut me off.

"Exactly." He opened his mouth slightly as if preparing to say more, before snapping it shut and shaking his head.

"No. Finish what you were going to say," I prodded, intensely curious as to what he intended to say. What was so bad that he'd edit himself mid-argument?

He smirked, but it wasn't in his usual charming way. It was the type of cutting arrogance I'd once smacked him across the face with a compass for. "I really don't think that's the best idea, given your current mood."

I crossed my arms as my eyes darkened. "Oh trust me; I want to hear this."

He scoffed. "And there's that word again; trust."

"What do you want from me?" I cried, stepping forward into his space.

"For you to remember that we are in this together! That what happens to you affects more than just you!"

"I know that!"

"Do you, lass?" He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly through his nose. His jaw barely moved as he spoke; "It has taken all my patience to prove to you that I will not desert you; that I will stand by you no matter what, in whatever role you wish me to play. Last night, I'd hoped you'd finally accepted that truth – my truth – of how much I bloody love you; one that would have surely caused the _entire_ bridge to appear in the echo cave had I spoken it." Blue eyes filled with a raging sea met mine. "Not one day later and you march back into battle without me. Completely disregarding me once more."

I breathed out sharply. "Stop being so damned dramatic. I handled it just fine without you."

As my words escaped my mouth, something akin to a wince stabbed across our link. I wasn't sure if it was from me or him, but I instantly regretted it. His reply was swift and cutting, driving that regret deeper into my chest. "Dramatic am I? For someone in a relationship you've clearly forgotten there are two parties involved, darling." He stepped backwards, moving away from me as he spoke. "But if you are so inclined to steer this particular vessel all on your lonesome far be it for me to stand in your way. Shall I leave you my brace? I'm sure there are any number of attachments suited for your pleasure, or perhaps you'd prefer to chain me to the bed, seeing as that's all I'm apparently useful for."

"That's not fair!" I exclaimed, hating the tears stinging at the corner of my eyes. He wasn't supposed to get angry. He'd just told me he'd never leave me, never give up. Had I pushed him to his breaking point? _He has feelings, too, Emma_, my mind scolded gently. Our bond had never felt so violently alive. My chest was throbbing with the heat of our words and our emotions. I felt myself standing on the edge of a knife, so tempted to push him away before he could hurt me. But I didn't want to lose him. I loved him. I _would_ fight this time. For him.

"I do want you! But I don't know how to do this." I gestured helplessly between us. "My entire life I've been alone. I'm going to make mistakes. I'm sorry. Please, I…I'm sorry!"

His body trembled with the immensity of our combined feelings for a long moment. Then, suddenly, he shuddered as whatever seething emotion he'd bottled within decided to just let go. He crossed to me in three labored strides, lifting his hand once, twice, before settling it on my cheek. "You stubborn lass. I've lived three hundred years in solitude. Surely, if I can learn to put that aside in order to be with you, you can relinquish your twenty-eight years and trust me."

"I'm sorry," I mouthed again, feeling a traitorous tear escape down my cheek. He wiped it away with his thumb. "I'm sorry," I said again, repeating it as I moved my face to his.

"I'm sorry, too, love," he spoke just as his lips crashed into mine. What started as a tender acceptance became a fueled recommitment. I laced my fingers into his hair and welded my mouth to his, our teeth clacking together before he thrust his tongue past my lips. His arm was a steel band at my waist, holding me so tightly against his body that I could feel his heart pounding against my chest. The sharp tip of his hook teased along my lower back, scraping underneath my shirt and sending tremors racing down my spine.

My hips rolled against him, seeking proof that I was still very much his. He growled deep in his throat and my knees nearly buckled. It was too much yet not enough. I wanted him, needed him…loved him. "Killian, I want you so much," I exhaled in a rush. Using his body, he pushed forward, causing me to step backwards until my legs felt the couch. He latched his mouth to the column of my neck, the coarseness of his beard scratching against my skin. I gasped as he sucked hard on my pulse point, knowing – but not caring – that it was going to leave a mark.

My fingers searched desperately for his skin, reaching between us to undo his vest and the few buttons of his black shirt. He pulled his mouth away long enough for me to shed him of his pirate armor before claiming my lips again. I rubbed my palms up his finely muscled torso then down his back before slipping them underneath the leather of his trousers to grab his firm behind. His hips jolted forward, giving me all the proof I had wanted. I shifted back, yanked my shirt over my head and quickly unclasped my bra, adding both to the growing pile of clothes on the floor. His blue eyes dilated to the point they were nearly black, sending sinful anticipation charging throughout my body.

A low keening noise vibrated from my chest as his mouth closed around one of my breasts. His tongue swirled around the peak, hardening it as a flow of desire rushed to my core. "Killian," I cried. His hand moved to the zipper of my jeans, ridding me of my pants and underwear faster than I could even comprehend. I reached for him, sliding my palm over the bulge in the front of his leathers. He grinned slyly at me, his mouth red and kiss-swollen, his eyes shining and his cheeks bright. "How shall I take you, love?"

I tugged his pants down his narrow hips and took him between my palms. "Hard," I challenged, returning his look of unabashed hunger. "Make me feel it. Show me just how much I'm yours." I leaned in to kiss him lightly on his beautiful mouth – a total contrast to my words – before turning around so my back pressed against his chest. Lifting my arms over my head, I wrapped them around his neck and arched back, feeling his erection hot against my backside.

"I'll not take you as…him. Never," he vowed as his fingers trailed over my ribcage.

I turned my head so he could see my face and smiled. "I'm not asking for Hook, _Captain Jones_." I concentrated on flooding our bond with all my love, acceptance and blatant desire before pushing back against him. Flexing his hips once, he stepped forward, pressing me flush against the couch.

"Lean down, lass," he whispered hotly in my ear. The cool steel of his hook traced delicately along the entire length of my spine a moment before he spread my legs and - without warning - thrust hard into my body. He stilled immediately and I groaned at the intrusion, reveling in the delicious burn of being stretched almost to the point of pain. _This_ was the feeling I craved after our tense words; this feeling of being entirely consumed by him. I clenched my lower walls and his answering cry of pleasure fueled my desire.

He pulled out slowly, making me feel every inch before he snapped his hips forward once more. "Is that hard enough for you, love?" His voice was coarse with his own passion. "Am I making you…feel it?" He teased. I laughed once, not so much in humor but in outright bliss. He thrust again and again, each time coming faster than the last. The fingers of his right hand dug into the sensitive flesh of my hip, holding me in place.

I clung to the cushions, just trying to find leverage to push back against him though he was very much captaining this voyage. He leaned over far enough that I felt the rough hair of his chest graze against my back, his rhythm never faltering. "Being with you this way…this is _home_, Emma."

My breath hitched at his words and suddenly I needed to see his face, needed to look into his eyes so he never doubted again how very much he had come to mean to me. I pushed up just forcefully enough that he got the hint. He straightened to encircle my waist before pulling me with him to the carpet. I twisted around to face him, placing a palm against his chest to encourage him to lie back before aligning our bodies and taking him in once more.

I rocked my body over his as I held his eyes captive. So much emotion shone from his blue depths that despite the feelings of rapture, hot tears began trickling down my cheek again. This wonderful yet terrible bond of ours had become almost a third person in our relationship. It had the power to bring us so close that we could literally feel each other's pleasure, but also the painful throb of disappointment. In his eyes, and in his heart, Killian loved me beyond measure. But I'd also hurt him more than I thought was possible.

I leaned down, rolling my hips as I clutched his shoulders. I kissed him greedily, trying to connect with him even more than we already were. His arm came around me as he shifted up, adjusting us so that I essentially sat in his lap. His lips smoothed away my tears before trailing all over my face. "Shh, Emma, it's alright, love." Using his hand and hook gently, he encouraged me to rise and fall in a slow, sweet rhythm.

We pressed our foreheads together and watched the play of emotions unfold in each other's eyes. His breath fanned across my face in soft pants, mixing with mine until it was impossible to separate them. "I love you," I whispered against his lips. He smiled and flexed his hips to meet one of my slow rocks, his sweat-slickened skin sliding against my chest and stomach.

"We're in this together, Swan." He nuzzled against my neck as he increased our pace. Deep inside, the crest of passion and emotion threatened to consume me. His fingers smoothed my hair away from my face as his eyes sought mine again. "Do you hear me?"

"God, yes, Killian!" I cried as every muscle in my body seized with delicious agony. My nails clung to the skin of his back as I rode out the most intense orgasm of my life, feeling his love, passion and devotion in every move of his body and radiating through our bond.

His breathing turned ragged as I felt the tide rising within him, too. "Emma," he rasped. His arms tightened around me, lifting me just enough to allow his hips to piston in hard thrusts before his head fell back and I felt his release surge through his body and into mine. An expression a poet might describe as tortured rapture touched his features. He shuddered as he exhaled, long and deep. It was the most beautiful sight I'd ever seen. _Is this how he sees me?_ I wondered.

I laid tender kisses against his collarbone, trailing down as far as I could toward his heart. His fingers threaded in my hair once more and I lifted my head to meet his gaze. As his thumb swept over my cheek, I realized my tears had never stopped. He stirred emotions in me that my soul just could not contain. His faith, his trust...and most of all his amazing heart: the only home I'd ever need.

"_At last_," he thought before sealing his lips to mine once more.

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><p><strong>AN:** Thank you all so much for reading, reviewing, favoriting, and following this story. I absolutely love hearing your thoughts and comments and am continuously humbled by your support. Seriously, at times your comments are the necessary fuel for my muse. I take this fanfic writing probably more seriously than I should, devoting hours into getting something 'just so,' so it really does mean a lot to me to hear that you are enjoying it. Thanks again to my writing partner (and I'm proud to say dear friend) **Yettoseeyoufail.**

We are nearing the finish line my friends…less than five chapters to go (I think.)


	17. Truest Convictions

**A/N: **I apologize for the delay in updating. Not only did RL get crazy for me, but I hit a bit of a writing wall. As the end of this tale approaches, all the pieces are closing in, so this did take some wrestling. I've lost count at how many versions of this chapter I planned. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy it!

Special thanks as always to the lovely **Yettoseeyoufail**, (who also deserves an award for putting up with me as I struggled these past two weeks) the ladies on tumblr who offered me motivation, and each and every one of you who has kept up with this story, reviewed it, alerted it, and favorited it. I am so honored to be among your reading choices! Catch me on tumblr at emeraldromance.

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><p><strong>Chapter 17<strong>

**Truest Convictions**

I trailed my fingers along Killian's bare arm as lightly as possible, smirking at my own game. I had a vague memory of playing this with one of the other foster kids when I was younger. We'd close our eyes and see who could manage to make contact so imperceptibly that the other couldn't even feel it. Inevitably, it would end in a tickle match. _What had the other girl's name been? Kelly? Katie?_ It seemed a shame that I'd forgotten, particularly since I held so few happy memories from childhood.

His arm shifted, flinching away from my teasing touches. My grin widened. I angled my fingers so my nails scratched gently across his skin and his right hand jerked over to knock them away. He mumbled incoherently before rolling to his side. I sat innocently back against the headboard as his eyes blinked open, sleepy and brilliantly blue. "Good morning," I sang sweetly.

His smile slowly overtook his face, kindling a warm glow in my chest. "Good morning, love." He lazily swept his gaze over my body. "You're quite dressed," he observed with the slightest hint of disapproval. He reached over to pluck at my black leggings.

I smoothed my hands over my black pencil skirt before crossing my legs at the ankle. I'd paired it with a plum-colored turtleneck; the latter being necessary after Killian's…_affections_ the night before. "Very astute of you, Captain."

His lips curved flirtatiously as his hand settled to stroke along my nylon-clad knee. "I love this whole…woman of mystery thing you've affected, Swan, though I've already seen what lies beneath."

"It's appropriate for where we're going."

His mouth curved in a lop-sided grin. "Is that right?" His fingers crept higher, disappearing underneath my skirt.

I rolled my eyes and laughed as I grasped his wandering hand and firmly placed it on his side of the bed. "Get dressed, _pirate_. I'm taking you to church."

The grin dancing across his face froze a moment before turning positively devilish. "I seem to recall a specific list of requirements if you were after my hand, Swan." He glanced around the room. "Yet nary a flower petal nor an angelic-voiced choirboy to be found." His hand moved to his chest, accompanied by a pout. "Do you really think me so easily won?"

"Absolutely," I winked. _And you're not alone_, I silently added. I stood and crossed the room to the bag we'd brought back from the Jolly Roger. "What have you got in here that's a bit less…conspicuous?" I asked as I rummaged through the few possessions he'd deemed essential. _Leather, leather, and a poofy black shirt._

With a slight groan, he pushed to his feet and stretched his arms above his head before rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck from side to side. Every muscle from his calves, to his backside and up through his sculpted biceps rippled underneath the uninterrupted expanse of his smooth skin. My mouth went suddenly dry as sandpaper. _"Like what you see?"_ His voice sounded in my thoughts in that rich, decadent tone that called to my baser nature. Turning slightly in my direction, he peered at from beneath his dark lashes.

I met the challenge of his stare defiantly, tracing every single inch of him with my own green gaze. Biting my lower lip I teasingly replied, "You'll do."

He chuckled once before shaking his head. "You're going to pay for that remark, Swan."

"_Oh I hope so,"_ I mentally projected, holding his eyes for one moment longer and secretly loving this playful testing of our bond's telepathic ability. It was becoming easier and easier to command this particular gift. We couldn't hear every random thing flitting across the other's conscience – thank God – but we could choose to make the other hear or see a specific thought by focusing its intent. Killian was proving to be quite talented at both, and had spent the better part of the night demonstrating just how _gifted_ he was. I cleared my throat and gestured toward his bag once more. "Seriously, don't you have any other clothes for this realm besides what you wore a few nights ago?"

He sauntered toward me, never losing sight of my face. Playing with an unruly curl resting on my shoulder he teased, "I must be doing something wrong if you're presently concerned with how best to _attire_ me." His brows lifted.

Ignoring his blatant innuendo and keeping my eyes firmly on his face I replied, "You're the one who made such a big deal out of changing your image."

His lips twisted wryly. "Upon your suggestion," he emphasized.

"Exactly. It was just a suggestion." I pulled out a pair of his leather trousers and smoothed my fingertips across the seam. Looking into his clear blue eyes I said, "I'm not trying to change you, Killian. I love you. Just as you are. But I know this world…these people. I can't help but want to make this transition easier for you."

He stepped further into my space and held my hips loosely, though it was still enough to send my nerve-endings firing with coarse arousal. _He is naked for crying out loud!_ My libido screamed. I swallowed thickly, forcing my thoughts to stay on track and not think about how soft his lips were as he murmured, "It's because of you that I care to make that transition, love. I'm not the easiest choice for you or Henry."

"And when have I ever done what's easy?" I smiled, choosing a light-hearted retort despite being well aware that the same sentiment could be said of me. I had never been someone's easy choice either.

He leaned in and kissed me lightly on the lips, saying with actions rather than words that we understood each other perfectly. The skin around his eyes crinkled as he smiled at me. "I suppose I'd best take advantage of your water closet before donning fresh clothes."

I nodded before handing him the leather pants. My inner teenager was having an absolute field day at the reactions we were sure to receive if he stepped into the sanctuary fully-garbed as Captain Hook. Spotting the maroon shirt he'd worn on our date, I held that out to him, too. "We're going to have to go shopping at some point. But for now, maybe continue mixing the old and the new?"

"Aye, love," he agreed. A playful glimmer overtook his expression. "It's a shame really that you're so thoroughly clothed; I would've welcomed your assistance in the bath."

A fleeting image of Killian soapy and wet swept through my brain, and it took all my willpower to keep my feet planted and my eyes on his face, not his other…attributes. "Another time," I promised, and meant it.

He smirked and crossed the room slowly. "You know where I'll be if you change your mind." With an almost comical wink, he turned down the hall toward the bathroom.

I waited until I heard the water turn on before heading downstairs, pushing those rather vivid thoughts of him out of my head as best I could. Of course I would've loved to take him up on his suggestion, but I'd already let that side of myself get far too distracted by my sexy pirate. A ridiculous smile lit my face and I shook my head in amazement. How did we end up here? Naked and flirting one moment, tender conversation the next and all of it wonderful? That final surrender, no…open _acceptance_ last night had done the opposite of what I'd always feared. Rather than being buried under doubt, I'd never felt more free. Is that what loving and trusting another person did? _It's having those things returned, Emma, _my conscience gently prodded_._

Killian loved me. He wanted me. He thought of me as his home. Accepting those as unconditional truth had opened the final lock I hadn't realized was guarding my heart. And now that it was fully open, I scarcely knew how to handle it. I was not this person; the one walking around with rainbows and unicorns frolicking in her wake and little birds trilling uplifting melodies around her head. I was the one using the birds as target practice. I had no clue how to actually live as one of these warped fairy-tale characters, let alone love one. I'd been honest in that respect last night. But I was also sincere when I finally admitted to both of us how much I did want it, despite having no idea what the hell I was doing. There were times he'd look at me as if I were the anchor holding him to this world, making me simultaneously speechless and terrified of disappointing him.

My thoughts drifted back to our argument. In hindsight I supposed he was right to call me out on leaving him behind. I wanted to protect him – that was the truth – but allowing that he had just as much right to look after me as I did him? That was going to take some getting used to. Killian was adamant in affirming our partnership, and had now hinted about marriage…_twice_. He truly saw me as his other half; I needed to accept his place at my side, too, no matter how tempting it was to tuck him away so I'd never have to worry about losing him.

A blurred image seeped into my mind of pale skin tinted by a flush of heat, steam swirling around and obscuring the finer details. _"So warm and wet,"_ Killian's voice groaned inside my head. A rush of want flooded our bond and I gasped as I felt the juncture between my thighs throb to attention.

Suddenly realizing what my darling _other half_ was up to, I growled loudly in my thoughts, _"Are you kidding me with this right now? Come on!" _

"_Oh I'll come alright, and it will not be a joke."_ His grin was heavily imbued in his reply.

The mental image sharpened, treating me to another view of his naked arousal. A hand adorned with several heavy rings stroked over hard flesh. _"A bit thorough in that section, don't you think?"_ I grumbled as I re-crossed my legs, pressing my thighs together uselessly.

"_A job worth doing is worth doing right."_

He was so damn cheeky it was impossible to stay aggravated, sexually or otherwise. Biting my lower lip I decided to tease back, _"And by right I suppose you mean your hand."_

"_Not my hand I'm imagining, love."_ A drawn out moan followed his words. I could almost see that wicked tongue tasting over his lips. He was definitely not playing fair. But I'd always been a competitive person.

"_Well you already know what my mouth feels like. I've yet to really experience what yours can do…" _I challenged.

"_I'm more than happy to oblige."_

"_Promises, promises," _I shot back.

The water shut off abruptly. My blood raced excitedly, causing my pulse to thud loudly in my ears. I stood slowly from the chair, waiting for his retort, but only the hum of anticipation filled my thoughts. The door of the bathroom opened with a slight groan followed by the soft padding of unmeasured footsteps along the upstairs corridor. Killian appeared at the top of the stairs clad only in a thick, white towel slung around his narrow hips. Water trickled across the planes of his chest, glistening in the dark hair covering his skin and the trail disappearing beneath the fabric. "Care to say that again, love?" He asked, his eyes holding mine prisoner.

"You heard me the first time," I smirked. Thinking back to what he could do with his fingers and his thoughts, there wasn't a doubt in my mind that this was another area Killian Jones would excel in. His foot shifted, intending to move to the top step of the stairs but I held my hand up to stop him, completely shocked by my own reserve of willpower. "And as much as I believe in your…abilities, we don't have time. Not now." _Damn_.

Disbelief reigned in his expression. I really couldn't blame him. My own libido was already trying to wrestle my common sense into submission, but unfortunately, the clock was in my line of sight and duty called. Making a gentle 'shoo' motion with my fingers, I added, "Go get dressed. The sooner we solve this case, the better."

A lecherous grin appeared on his face. "The better being the _fun_, isn't that right, love?"

I didn't answer him, trying with all my resolve not to feed anymore into his plans of further debauchery, but he apparently was not going to let me off that easily. With a silent lift of his brow, he unwrapped the towel from his hips and used it to dry off his chest as he wandered back down the hall, making sure I got an eyeful of just how prepared he'd been to follow through on more _fun_ activities. _Double damn_.

I set about washing the few glasses in the sink and then refolding a basket of laundry Mary Margaret had left behind – anything to keep my feet planted on the first floor – while I waited for Killian to finish getting ready. He made me feel insatiable, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but we hardly had the luxury of getting completely lost in each other with someone plotting against him, me, or both of us.

"Well, do I pass muster?" Killian inquired softly as he came down the stairs. Taking him in, I had to admit the combination of leather pants and button-down shirt worked on him, particularly given that he'd left the first four buttons of the shirt undone. He looked like some rock god sauntering out to greet his adoring fans. Stepping closer to him, I wordlessly fastened one of the buttons. We were going to church, after all.

Breathing in, I noticed a distinct floral smell clinging to his hair and skin. "We should probably pick up some shampoo and body wash while we're out, too," I suggested, slightly thrown by the lack of his familiar scent and the contradiction my own bath products created.

The tip of his tongue moistened his lips as he smiled. "I don't know; there's something to having the pleasure of your perfume surrounding me all day."

I chuckled. "Well, it's your image…"

His smile tightened. "Perhaps not, then." He reached his hand out to stroke delicately along my cheek, trailing his fingers down the column of my neck. "Wouldn't suit for me to develop a reputation of being too soft," he whispered.

The antique clock in the living room sounded the hour with a dramatic series of chimes. My voice sounded a bit strained when I said, "We'd best get going. I think the mass starts now."

A knowing smirk tilted his mouth and he winked. "Lead the way, love."

Luckily, our destination was only a block away and the day was unseasonably warm. The late morning sunlight soaked into the landscape, illuminating the green of the grass and the blue of the sky like blazing jewels. We walked at a brisk pace, the sound of our boots clacking against the pavement only punctuated by sparse conversation.

"So, what's our purpose for attending service this morning? I wouldn't exactly peg you as the faith-seeking type, love," Killian asked as the steeple of the church came into view.

"I'm not. Not really. But if we're going to get anything out of Blue, we'll need to approach her on her own turf."

"Ah, the fairy. Of course."

"I just hope she'll have something useful to tell us about this bond," I commented.

As we approached the church, I was taken aback by the thick flow of people parading away from the building rather than toward it. Numerous pairs of incredulous eyes paused on Killian and me, though no one dared comment, not even those whose gazes were fixed to his gleaming hook as if it possessed its own tractor beam. I wasn't sure whether to smirk or stare them down. So what if I was taking the infamous Captain Hook to church? Wasn't this supposed to be some kind of no-judgment zone?

The priest – I wasn't sure of his name, let alone his Enchanted Forest persona – stood ramrod straight at the base of the concrete steps, so thin that a strong wind could've blown him over. Wispy white whiskers decorated his jaw-line and enhanced the aged authority declared by his wrinkled face. As he dutifully shook one parishioner's hand after another, it became apparent to me that not only were we late; we'd apparently missed the entire mass.

"_Let me do the talking," _I mentally addressed Killian as I crossed the few paces to stand before the priest. "Excuse me, Father…"

"Merlin. Just Merlin," he responded as his startling green eyes settled on my face with peculiar curiosity. His voice belied his wizened visage. Strong and clear, _this_ was the voice that heralded Camelot.

I tried, and likely failed, not to show my surprise. _Interesting reassignment, Regina_. Though, it wasn't too much of a stretch to imagine the Evil Queen intentionally downgrading such a legendary powerful man to the role of religious servant. But how had I not realized he was here in Storybrooke before? "It's an honor to meet you. I wasn't aware you were a resident here?"

"Resident implies permanency," he responded a bit vaguely.

_Okay_, I thought with no small amount of mystification. The inquisitive part of my nature wanted to further question his response, but that wasn't why I was here. Taking a deep breath I stated, "We're hoping to speak with the Blue Fairy?"

His expression sharpened. "You must mean Mother Superior. I'm afraid you've already missed her, Sheriff. She's left to visit those of our flock that are ill and could not attend this morning." Sweeping his hawkish eyes over the pair of us he continued, "It's a pity you missed the service. Today's sermon, 'Seeking Redemption, Not Revenge' was quite a powerful message. We are all of us sinners; some more than others." He peered knowingly over his wire-rimmed glasses at Killian.

"_He has no idea, love,"_ Killian's snarky thought whispered in my mind in conjunction with a rather vivid image involving his hook and me wearing nothing but his pirate shirt.

I cleared my throat, trying my best to send him a mental shove before directing my focus back on the sorcerer turned holy man. "Right. Sorry about that. Maybe another time," I offered with what I hoped was an innocent smile. "Do you know when she might return?"

Merlin straightened even more – if that was possible – before smiling. However, it was not the kind of smile which offered comfort; it was a knowing smile, an 'I am looking right into your soul' kind of smile. That he was playing for both team magic and team religion sent a shiver down my spine. "These types of visits generally take some time. But perhaps I can offer you some assistance? I've no further appointments today, and I do so enjoy counseling young love." His bushy eyebrows actually waggled. _What the hell?_

Killian laughed, rich and full across our bond. _"Oh, I like him,"_ his mental voice dripped with glee. That delight blossomed on his face as he opened his mouth to speak.

This time I didn't just imagine elbowing him. He scowled in my direction but refrained from voicing his retort. Turning toward Merlin I replied, "We appreciate the offer, really, but we're actually working on an investigation and believe…Mother Superior…might have some helpful information."

Merlin's hands drifted lazily before him. "Just so. A remarkable woman, she is." A wry smile bordering on lascivious hinted at his mouth.

Killian and I met each other's baffled eyes. "_What sort of character is this…Merlin?"_ He thought cautiously, his opinion of this mythical figure altering with each passing moment.

"_Difficult to say…there are so many different versions of him. Some good…some not so good. Tread carefully."_

"And would this investigation involve a rather shifty, portly fellow who has been gazing most intently upon the pair of you throughout our entire discussion?" Merlin nodded beyond our shoulders.

Killian's head turned abruptly and all the emotion was stripped from his face. Across our bond, I felt the tightening of his posture as his conscience was struck to attention. "Smee," he breathed out, his timbre rough and dangerous. I reached a hand toward his arm, but he took off running before I could make contact.

"Killian! Wait!" I called after him, but he was too focused to even register my protestation. With a quick look of apology to Merlin, I chased after my pirate.

I trailed him from the church down a neighboring side road that fed into Main Street, still not seeing the squat man he was apparently chasing. I would hand it to him; Killian was quicker than I would've guessed, but I was faster. By the time he broke past the line of shops which separated the homes from the business fronts, I was less than five yards behind him; just close enough to observe the latest catastrophe to face us.

It was the Dark Hollow all over again: watching in slow motion as a life-threatening force careened head-first into our path, and seemingly helpless to do anything to stop it. I was close, but I wasn't close enough. As Killian turned the corner past the shoe store out into the street, the sickening squeal of brakes mirrored the absolute shriek of terror piercing my heart. Acting on pure instinct, I reached out in desperation to yank him backwards.

His sudden weight crashed into me and knocked us both to the hard asphalt. Pain radiated in my chest – similar to a badly strained muscle – as the shock of what had nearly happened reverberated through us both. Dazed, even the act of drawing in breath was a momentary challenge. I moved each of my limbs carefully, assessing for any serious injury.

"Are you alright, love?" Killian's soft eyes accompanied his worried voice. He gently shifted off of me, his own hand pressed tightly against his chest, and we winced in unison. As he moved, a beam of light appeared between his heart and mine, twisted like a silver cord though nearly transparent. I reached my fingers toward it tentatively, expecting them to pass straight through, but they didn't. The apparition was barely substantial, but it had a slightly warm, ridged texture which pulsed with the same rhythm as my heartbeat. I jerked my hand back as if it had bitten me – my fear was almost real enough – and the cord faded into nothing. Looking up, I was met with Killian's intense stare, wild yet strangely cautious_. "I saw it; but later, love. We've got company,_" his thoughts warned.

Not even a second later, a pair of expensive-looking black shoes rushed into my field of vision. "Holy shit. I didn't even see him! Are you okay? Shit!" An extremely agitated Dr. Whale crouched down next to Killian and me. I pushed up into a sitting position and looked around. A silver Mercedes – presumably Whale's – was stopped in the middle of the street, driver's door flung open. That in itself was not surprising; he'd likely thrown it in park and rushed to check on us, but the fact that Killian and I had landed some distance away was more than a bit disconcerting.

Killian rose slowly and offered me his hand. Taking my place beside him, I noticed we'd attracted quite a crowd. Across the street – in front of Granny's – stood Gold, Belle, Tink and Neal. Seeing that they'd caught my eye, the four of them crossed to us as Whale continued fussing over Killian.

"How did you do that?" Whale suddenly asked me. "He was there, right there in the middle of the road, and then…" he looked around in confusion.

"Then he was pulled to you," Gold finished. Though he spoke directly to me, his eyes were firmly affixed to my chest. Glancing at the others who'd joined us, I realized he wasn't alone. Tinkerbelle was also preoccupied with staring at chests, only her eyes panned between me and Killian. _They saw it, too_, I realized.

"What do you mean, pulled to me?" I questioned, deciding not to draw further attention to whatever had manifested a moment ago.

"He flew through the air and smacked into you," Whale answered, looking slightly pale. His mouth opened once, twice, before he finally decided on what to say. I'd never seen him so flustered. "How are you okay?" His words escaped in a rush directed at Killian.

Killian's eyebrow twitched upward, no doubt as puzzled as I felt. "I'm not entirely sure what you mean, mate."

Whale's expression tightened into a bit of a scowl. Turning to me he added, "Why was he even running, let alone in the street? I thought I made it clear that he needed to rest."

"A miraculous recovery." Killian smirked.

My mind struggled to make sense of the various snippets of conversation. "When you say flew…"

"He ran into the road and would've been hit by the doctor's car, but at the last second, he…well, he flew backwards and knocked you over," Belle explained gently. She wrapped her arm around Gold's, causing him to startle. His attention finally broke from me and he looked to her with soft eyes.

Tinkerbelle's focus also shifted. Her face transformed with a beaming smile, her voice slightly amazed. "You used your magic, Emma."

"Magic," Whale repeated, only it sounded almost like a curse word coming from his mouth. "I take it magic is also responsible for your _miraculous recovery_?" He returned Killian's words to him. Killian merely shrugged and smiled vaguely. Whale scoffed before muttering, "Perfect. What's the point of even having doctors in this town?"

Neal hummed in agreement. Or at least, I assumed that's what it was. When he noticed the group's attention swing toward him, he shifted his stance. "What?" He asked defensively. "You're not really surprised, are you? I mean, she's saved his life with magic before, so…"

Gold swiftly changed the conversation, all the while maintaining an awareness of Belle. "Magic is a tricky thing. Let's just be thankful everyone is well, hmm?"

"And that's my cue. Seeing as there's no life or death situation, I'll be on my way," Whale barely waited for us to acknowledge his send-off before he returned to his car and sped away. The rest of the onlookers scattered once the 'assailant' had left the scene and the show was over. That, or the challenging glare of Gold scared them away.

Killian stepped closer to my side and the strain in my chest tugged. I glanced at him, but his eyes were focused on my arm. His fingers crept along a tear in my sleeve and I flinched. "Sorry, love. Apparently, you did injure yourself when we fell. Or rather, I did." He lifted his hook awkwardly, eyeing it with disgust.

"I'm fine," I snapped through gritted teeth, far too aware of our audience. Pulling my sleeve back, I noticed a thin laceration about three inches in length between my elbow and my wrist. Poking at it, I hissed slightly. "I've got a first-aid kit at the station. It's no big deal. I didn't even notice it."

"Why can't you just heal it with your magic? You did it with Hook," Neal questioned.

Producing a handkerchief from his pocket, Killian pressed it against my arm – ignoring my protest – and answered, "Not that easy, mate." Neal's brow furrowed in preparation for an argument, but Killian just shook his head.

"Fine, then you do it," Neal ordered his father.

Gold pointed at himself, perhaps in genuine surprise. "Me? Well, I suppose it is a simple fix." He faced me and reached out his palm, but Killian pulled my arm away before he could even get close. Gold looked amused, but not surprised.

"Seems a bit excessive to use magic on such a small wound," I commented, trying to cover for my pirate's quick reaction, though I had been about to yank my arm back anyways. "_Thank-you_," I mentally commented to him. There was no way I was letting Gold use any magic around me or Killian. Not until I knew for sure he wasn't somehow plotting against us.

"But I'm sure Rumpel doesn't mind. Do you?" Belle gazed up at Gold.

"Really, it's fine," I added a bit more firmly, sending Neal a look I hoped clearly conveyed it was time for them to go.

He ran his hand through his hair before gesturing toward the other three. "Shall we head back to Granny's? I'll bet that table is ready by now."

"Just a moment," Gold interjected. "Any further word on our mutual _pest_?"

_Smee_. Of course. With all the commotion, I'd forgotten why Killian took off running in the first place.

"He's seemingly disappeared again," Killian answered, treading a thin line between honesty and falsehood. The law enforcement officer in me applauded his tactic. "And you?" He inquired, his eyes sweeping our surrounding area. I wondered if the tinge of malice in his voice was as obvious to the others as it was to me.

Gold's grin widened enough to show a hint of teeth. "I suspect I'm one of the last people he'd want to see. But as I've said, should he come crawling to me, I'll be sure to inform you. Good day, Sheriff. _Captain_." With one last meaningful look, he turned and ushered Belle away. Neal shrugged once in my direction before following.

Tinkerbelle stepped forward and clasped my hand between hers. "I'm so happy to see you embracing this, Emma." Her cherubic face was near to bursting with misplaced happiness.

I shook my head, glancing to Killian then back to her. "I don't know what you mean." _And I'm not sure I want to_, I added silently.

"True love," she whispered, and then winked.

I pulled my hand back. "I don't…it's not that –" I sputtered, though Killian once again swept in.

"Perhaps Lady Belle could be of assistance? I know you were set on the Blue Fairy," he paused, "but love magic was sort of your specialty, wasn't it, lass?" He addressed Tinkerbelle.

I was seriously starting to worry that her face might split in half with the size of her smile. She clapped her hands once. "Yes. Yes it was. How can I help?"

Sighing, I considered Killian's suggestion. Although Tink was currently without magic, she did have rather impressive credentials when it came to matters regarding true love and such. _Not_ that our bond necessarily had anything to do with that, but it was probably the closest match. And more importantly, I had a good feeling about her.

"_Let's just hear what she has to say, love. We can trust her."_ Killian's thoughts flowed through my mind like a stream of cool water, soothing and pure.

"_Fine. But not here,"_ I conceded. Smiling back at the fairy, I asked, "If you don't mind, how about following us to the station?"

"Absolutely. Let me just go make my excuses," she commented, already turning to step away.

"Oh. And we'd appreciate it if you could just keep this between the three of us. For now," I added quickly. She nodded then crossed to Granny's.

Killian was silent as we trekked the few blocks to Storybrooke's police station. In this short week together, I'd come to learn a quiet Killian was not usually a good thing. "So, this bond thing keeps getting better and better," I teased. Or at least that was my intent.

His head jerked toward mine. "What do you mean?" I was momentarily confused by the worry in his voice and the hesitancy in his gaze.

My face scrunched in slight bewilderment. "Umm…the whole pulling you out of harm's way?"

His expression cleared. "Aye, it has been quite the morning." He scanned each alleyway as we walked, no doubt on the lookout for another sign of his one-time crew member.

"Smee…what do you think he wants with you? Did you end things on bad terms with him?" I asked.

He scoffed. "I wish I knew. The last dealings I had with him, I was embroiled in less savory pursuits…" He glanced at me carefully from the side of his eye.

_Ah. Regina and Cora._ I waited for the awkward twinge which usually accompanied any remembrance of his past, but it didn't come. Perhaps the saying that love is blind was more truthful than I ever gave it credit for.

"However, we generally had a good rapport, and he seemed to have an excellent understanding of my authority. That he's apparently avoiding direct contact with me is a bit perplexing. He is a resilient, wily sort of character. Not to be underestimated," Killian elaborated. He held the station door open for me when we arrived, following me in with one last look out at the street. "Let me look at your arm, love," he said softly, his fingers already tugging the makeshift bandage away.

"I'm alright, really." I said, trying to console the sudden guilt in his eyes. "Besides, I don't think there are any giants here. And we're fresh out of rum."

Curiosity swam amidst his blue depths for a second before a matching grin filled his expression. A vision of his mouth tugging at a ragged scarf swirled through our thoughts, and my temperature rose by degrees. His grin turned sinful. "Perhaps not, but I'd like to care for it just the same. Please."

"You should try healing it," Tink suggested, suddenly appearing through the station door. Seeing our confused faces she continued, "With your magic."

"Come again?" Killian replied.

"Healing magic is one of the easiest to command, particularly when it is being used in connection with love."

Her matter-of-factness was a bit disarming. How could she talk so confidently and with such ease about a topic I'd only barely come to grips with? Not to mention she was missing a rather obvious point. "But he doesn't have magic," I stated.

Her mouth curved in a lopsided smile. "Of course he does. His aura is almost as bright as yours, which isn't surprising given it stems from your own magic." My pulse sped and I felt the color drain from my face. For his part, Killian went suddenly still. "I don't know how you managed to share your power with him, but you did."

"_We need to tell her, love,"_ Killian urged. I knew he was right, but unlike many things, the more often I told this tale, the harder it seemed to get.

My breath escaped in a rush. "We're magically bound. It happened in Neverland. So far, no one really seems to know what that means. But we thought…we hoped you might?"

Her smile slipped, but in concentration, not defeat. "It's a thing of legend. But yes, I've heard of soul-bonding. It is a unique product of true love used to protect the other in extreme situations. But it's also supposed to be the purest representation of magic possible; capable of healing just about anything."

"True love?" I whispered. "Isn't that usually determined by a kiss?" I swallowed thickly. A recent memory of Gold's voice urging me to use a _'more intimate connection'_ to save Killian drifted through my thoughts. Then, Killian's smug, almost victorious face teasing me about how I'd managed to wake him. At the time, I'd thought it was strictly my magic which had worked to heal him. But it had been _our _magic_._ How had I not seen it before? All the indecision and denial I'd put us through; the pain my stubborn refusal had caused him…he had been _it_ for me before I even knew it myself.

I turned my watery eyes on his impossibly handsome face. _"I'm so sorry. You knew…even then?"_

A smile born of patience and love lit up his entire face. _"Aye, love. But I do not begrudge you for taking your time. I waited three hundred years for you; what was another week?"_

I laughed. I wanted to pull him to me and kiss him – amongst other things – but Tink interrupted our silent affirmation.

"See. You're both using magic right now. Telepathy?" Her eyebrow lifted.

"How did you know?"

Now it was her turn to laugh. "I may not be able to hear what you're saying to one another, but your thoughts are flying across your faces nonetheless," her voice drifted off as her eyes went a bit misty. Her hands fluttered in front of her. "Whoa. Okay. So a soul bond….this is pretty spectacular. Wait until I tell Blue!" Killian cleared his throat, garnering the excited fairy's attention. "Right. Our secret."

"Actually, it's not much of a secret." I started, looking to Killian before continuing. "That's sort of the problem."

"Might you have any inkling as to why someone would require the heart of one in a bonded pair?" Killian explained.

"My guess would be someone was attempting to claim some of the magic for themselves. As I said, until now, soul bonds were only theorized."

"Is it true that if one of us dies, so does the other?" I asked rather bluntly, still trying to compile possible motives.

"Well, that's part of the legend. But what precedence do we really have to prove it? You said your bonding is not a secret; who else knows?"

"Gold, Neal, my parents…Regina," I listed.

She looked upon Killian with sincere concern. "I heard about your attack. Am I to assume it wasn't simply a misled attempt to seek revenge for one of your pirate misdeeds?"

He grinned, layers of charm falling over him like a well-worn costume. "Foolish, if you ask me."

I rolled my eyes. Trust him to try and find some kind of humor in the situation. "Whoever it was tried to take his heart."

"And you think it involves your bond." She looked thoughtful. "If someone is attempting to steal some of your magic, they now know the heart isn't an option. Even if they had managed to take one of your hearts it wouldn't have worked. If one side of the bond is broken, the magic dies."

_Along with the souls_, I silently added. She didn't need to voice that part; we were all thinking it.

"Is there no way to circumvent that particular aspect?" Killian asked. His fingers touched over the earring in his right ear and he avoided my eyes. How long had he been worrying about this?

Tinkerbelle's shoulders lifted slightly. "Not that I'm aware of, but then this is all so unheard of-"

"- that you've no way to know for sure," I interrupted. We'd been hearing the same version of that sentiment from just about everyone.

"Have you asked Rumpelstiltskin? He might know," she offered. Killian's expression darkened in a manner which likely matched the scowl on my own face. Seeing this, Tink quickly regrouped. "I see. You suspect him."

"Such a clever fairy," Killian quipped, though the thinly leashed anger in his tone hardly evoked the spirit of a compliment.

Tink brushed his comment aside without even the smallest reaction, and I wondered just how often she'd put up with his quick trigger moods in the past. Just what kind of friendship had they shared over their centuries in Neverland? _Do you really want to know, Emma? _

Her eyes fell on my arm where a thin line of dried blood led from the wound down to my wrist. Gesturing to Killian she directed, "I meant what I said when I came in. You should be able to heal her quite easily." He eyed her warily, but lifted his hand to hover my laceration. "Focus on your love for Emma and imagine spreading that feeling along her wound like a healing balm."

I held my breath as I watched and listened to their exchange. I had to admit; it was strange to observe someone else's magic lesson. Nothing happened for the first minute, but just as I was beginning to feel Killian's frustration creep along our link, a wave of determination and concentrated devotion blasted into my chest. I sucked in air and made to pull my arm away on reflex.

"_Wait, love. Please, let me do this,"_ his voice caressed my mind. Steeling his expression, he flexed his fingers and filled his thoughts with our greatest memories. A light blush heated my face at some of the scenes he chose to replay, but when a soft white glow emitted from his palm, the only thought I was capable of recognizing was amazement. He smoothed his magic along my wound slowly, feeding it into my torn flesh and making it whole again. When all that remained was perfectly unmarked skin, he drew his hand back and released a breath I hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"You did it," I whispered.

"And still the surprise," he replied cheekily, though I could feel the astonishment radiating through him, too.

"With enough practice, the two of you will certainly be a force to be reckoned with," Tink remarked.

A sudden thought occurred to me. "Could we use this magic to figure out who tried to take his heart?"

"That would mean recreating something from the past. I don't know of any magic that can do that. But perhaps you could use a tracking potion to find the culprit; if you have something from the scene?"

_Of course!_ I mentally groaned. Sometimes the most logical course of action was the most difficult to determine. I turned to Killian. "Smee's hat. You think you saw him today? How about we find him for sure."

"It's about bloody time," he agreed. Looking back to Tinkerbelle he asked, "Have you any of this potion?"

She shook her head. "No. But I believe I may know someone who does. I should be able to get you some by this evening at the latest."

"I've got to pick up Henry. But we can meet back here later?" I suggested. She nodded and headed for the door. "Oh, and Tink –"

"My lips are sealed," she said as she playfully motioned the buttoning of her lips.

I smiled genuinely, my respect for her growing by leaps and bounds. "Thank you."

Her answering grin was just as sincere and even more joyous. "Anything for true love."

As soon as she was gone, Killian wrapped his arms around my waist and turned me into his embrace. His lips were upon mine before I could even speak. I stiffened with surprise before closing my eyes and letting myself mold to him. His kiss was as passionate and smoldering as always, but I sensed a newfound confidence bleeding through each press of his lips, each stroke of his tongue and within each murmured sound. My fingers tangled in his hair and I felt rising magic spark along my spine, through my heart and entwine with his. Desire flared – strong and sweet – and his grip on my waist tightened almost to the point of pain.

Drawing back slowly and gasping for breath, I blinked several times to refocus my eyes on his. Had they always been that devastating shade of blue? So deep and fathomless that I could lose myself to them for the rest of eternity? Yet so calm and comforting that I could entrust them with my deepest fears? "What was that for?" I asked softly.

He kissed me once more, just a tender brush of lips. "Because you're my true love, and I couldn't stand another second of not kissing you."

"Fair enough," I responded. I leaned in to kiss him again, but he held his face away.

"So you accept it then?" He challenged. "No more thoughts about this being a 'for now' type of situation?"

"Didn't we already hash this out yesterday?" I frowned. He was totally killing the mood.

He tapped my temple lightly. "Aye, but I've heard your doubts still rolling around in here."

"They're not about you. Not anymore," I whispered.

He smoothed my hair away from my face. "You are more than I could ever have dreamed for, Emma Swan. My true love. My safe harbor. My everything. There is no need for doubt."

Perhaps it was his newly honed magic, but his words were as much a healing balm to my spirit as his power had been to my flesh. "My true love," I tested the words. "Who can argue with that?" I kissed him once more – just a quick peck – and let my smile fill my entire face. "Now let's go retrieve my other true love."

He sighed and shook his head, though a playful grin touched his lips. "Not even a moment to revel in my upgraded status." He held out his hand and I readily linked my fingers with his.

"Welcome to parenthood," I laughed.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: So…I've now left you just about all the clues you need to piece this together. Big reveals coming soon, but any thoughts between now and then?

Reviews = writing fuel. ;)


	18. Bonding Time

**A/N**: Sorry for the 'hiatus' in posting. RL put a damper on my writing time AND my muse. But hey, how about that finale?! I'm still not over it. :D

Anyhow, I hope you enjoy this chapter. The end is so close…

**Chapter 18**

**Bonding Time**

The heat of the sun burned deliciously across my face, having strengthened throughout the day in a rare display of cheerful weather. While it was hardly 'hot' outside, the temperature was perfect for a late picnic lunch on deck of the Jolly Roger. At least for the moment. Confined to either wait for Tink to procure the tracking potion, or search Storybrooke door to door for our wanted man, the first option had proven to be the best choice given the addition of Henry.

"You should try it with mushrooms next time," Henry suggested before taking a huge bite out of his slice of pizza. Grease dripped unbecomingly down his hand.

Killian's face wrinkled in slight disgust. His own slice rested untouched on a paper plate, the congealing cheese glistening beneath thick slices of pepperoni. He poked at it with his hook. "And this rates as food in this realm?"

My lips twisted wryly. "Some might even say it's addictive," I commented before stealing his slice and taking a bite. I set it back on his plate, my eyebrows arched playfully.

"_First my heart, now my food. What else will you steal from me, Swan?"_ His internal voice sounded gruff in my thoughts.

"_That depends on you. Isn't it a pirate's privilege to plunder?"_ I replied cheekily.

His mouth twitched as he braved a bite of the pizza. _"Aye. Pilfering a maiden's virtue is a particularly nice reward; though, yours is the only treasure I seek." _His mind projected a naughty image in which the slice he held was replaced with a rather intimate part of the female anatomy.

"It'd better be!" I warned. _"Tease!"_ I mentally chastised.

"It'd better be what?" Henry asked.

I sucked in a breath as my face burst crimson. _Shit!_ Had I said that out loud? I scrambled back through the bit of conversation, trying to recall the last part I'd actually spoken. "Um…the pizza…it's my favorite so he'd better like it…you know…since we have it a lot."

"_Smooth recovery, love. Really bang-up job."_ Killian laughed, full and rich. I glared. "Fear not, Swan; despite its rather unusual appearance, I find the flavor quite pleasing."

"So weird," Henry muttered under his breath. Shaking his head, he polished off his slice before wiping his hands on a napkin. Turning to Killian he said, "Mom said…I mean my other mom," he side-eyed me a bit apologetically, "you're originally from the Enchanted Forest, too?"

"You discussed me with the queen?" Killian asked, setting his own food aside.

Henry shrugged. "Um yeah; I mean, all I know about you is the stories and the stuff in Neverland."

I watched the pair of them with slight fascination. Killian's part of the bond vacillated between wonder and wariness, much like his expression. _"He's just curious,"_ I tried to soothe him. _"It's a good thing."_

Killian cleared his throat once and shifted his position. I smirked at his obvious discomfort. "Aye, I hail from a lesser known kingdom, though prior to the curse it had been annexed by a neighboring monarchy." His brow lifted in thought as he carefully watched Henry's reactions.

"Like Risk?" Henry's face lit up with excitement while Killian's grew tighter with his ignorance.

"_A little help here, love?"_ He pleaded.

I stifled a laugh. _"It's a game. You play as different…erm…kingdoms and conquer neighboring lands. The goal is to gain the most territory."_

Killian nodded enthusiastically. "Aye, like Risk. Only, nothing about those times was a game."

"How did you end up in Neverland?"

"That, m'boy, is a long story perhaps suited for another time." He glanced at a distant bank of clouds, likely noting their darker hue. "Though, I will say it began with severe disillusionment."

My lips curved in amusement at Henry's puzzled expression as my mind warned Killian, _"Remember who you're talking to; he's smarter than your average kid, but he's still a kid."_

Killian's eyes met mine and I winked in encouragement. He sighed before turning back to Henry. "My brother and I were officers in the king's navy. He tasked us with procuring…_retrieving_…a medicinal plant from Neverland believed to be a powerful alleviant…_cure_." He paused, his fingers scratching lightly behind his ear. "At the time, the isle was thought to be pure myth. When we found it and the plant, we discovered we'd been misled."

"So you became a pirate instead?" Henry asked without a trace of judgment. His eyes shone with sincere interest.

Killian's eyes probed mine again, maintaining contact as he answered, "It wasn't as simple as that. Though, aye, it was a significant contributing factor."

A vacant, haunted look overtook his face in conjunction with a memory sifting through our thoughts: a feathered sail burning…a host of men raucously cheering while their newly christened captain donned a mask of bitterness which spurned his actions far longer than he could likely even imagine. My hand flinched, wanting to reach out to Killian but mindful of Henry. Sure, he knew we were dating, but we'd yet to reveal our true relationship to him. Not to mention the whole 'PDA' angle was definitely new to me. _Yet another side effect of true love_, I supposed.

"Yeah, but I bet you had loads of adventures," Henry continued before reaching for another slice. Seeing my disapproval his hand fell back, empty. "Like, I never understood the whole 'Captain Hook is afraid of clocks' thing?"

"I think those stories are best left for another time," I asserted, noting Killian's continued reverie. "We should think about heading back to the apartment. Looks like a storm might be rolling in."

Henry grumbled but began cleaning up his trash. When he traipsed across the deck to repack his sweatshirt and homework – of course he hadn't finished at Regina's – I gave in to the desire to touch him…Killian. "Are you alright?" I inquired softly, setting my palm on his forearm.

Slowly, his eyes focused on my face and he offered me a half-smile. "Aye, love."

Gazes locked, I spoke to his mind; _"Some memories are harder to forget."_

He nodded and his smile softened, sparking something raw and honest in his eyes. _"I would not trade a moment of that past regret. It shaped my course and led me to you."_

My lips parted in a soft gasp. That raw emotion brimming in his eyes burned into my chest. Would it always be like this between us? An image, or rather a feeling took shape in my thoughts. As he held my gaze from at least a foot away, I felt his mouth press tenderly against my own. His phantom tongue stroked against mine, awakening my desire as thoroughly as a real kiss would. I could even taste him; though logically I knew I should be tasting pizza, not the expected trace of rum.

"Killian," I murmured, blinking rapidly in a weak attempt at holding back the bloom of lust.

The corner of his lips turned up in a delighted grin as his mental counterpart added a hand against my breast. "Love?"

"_You don't play fair,"_ I chastised loudly in my thoughts.

He chuckled. _"Should I?"_

"_I seem to recall something about no trickery."_ My brow arched.

The real, physical Killian sitting before me stood and offered me a hand. _"That was when I was trying to win your heart."_ His smile widened to show off his perfect teeth. _"We're in an entirely different game now, Swan."_

My eyes narrowed, but I took his hand just the same. "I'll remember you said that."

"I'm counting on it," he replied cheekily.

"Counting on what?" Henry asked as he stopped before us, bag slung over his shoulder. I shifted nervously, tampering down the momentary jolt of shock at being caught out a second time by my preteen son. While it was admittedly becoming second nature to use this bond with Killian, we had to get better at our transitions.

Releasing my hand Killian commented, "Your mother believes you'd rather spend next weekend with your grandparents instead of a proper sail. I believe the contrary." He shot me a devious look accompanied by his trademark smirk. I supposed it was good that he was a smoother liar than I was, though he'd backed me straight into a corner. And judging by his expression, he knew it, too. My own expression hardened. He merely shrugged.

"You mean we can actually take the Jolly Roger out into the ocean next time?" Henry inquired, beaming with excitement. My irritation melted away completely. Henry had been openly hinting at his desire to sail the open seas with Captain Hook since we got back from Neverland. Had it not been for Killian's accident, his wish probably would've come true this very weekend. As it was, he'd had to settle for this afternoon visit while the ship stayed safely moored to Storybrooke's dock. Not nearly the same thing, although Henry would never complain.

I rolled my eyes half-heartedly. "Of course. I already said it was okay. As long as Killian isn't busy."

"Cool," Henry commented under his breath. Turning toward Killian he added, "And maybe we can go to the Caribbean this summer?"

"Whoa," I exclaimed through light laughter. "Getting a little ahead of ourselves, aren't we?"

"I don't know; am I?" Henry challenged, darting his eyes back and forth from Killian to me.

My face schooled itself despite my racing thoughts. Killian's eyes gleamed more brightly than his hook. _"The lad is exceedingly clever; you said so yourself,"_ he projected.

Ignoring his comment, I focused back on Henry, noting the sincere hope brimming across his face. My son: the eternal optimist. Shaking my head softly I said, "Come on; let's head home." I picked up the leftover pizza and handed the small bag of trash to Henry. Resting my hand on his shoulder, I steered us to the gang plank.

"Isn't Killian coming with us?" Henry asked, looking back to see Killian staring out across the bay. His hand and hook rested against the polished rail of his beloved ship, a pensive look imprinted on his features.

My steps halted. I'd just assumed it was understood that Killian would continue staying with me – with us – at least as long as the suspect was at large. But it had recently been pointed out to me that I needed to work at including others in my decisions. The Jolly Roger had been his home far longer than I could even comprehend. Now that he was healed, perhaps he preferred to stay aboard his ship?

My pulse leapt seemingly out of nowhere. Panic bled through my veins. I didn't want him to stay away. I wanted him to make his home with us. And not just for a night or two; I wanted him to be there when I woke up and be the last person I saw before I went to sleep. _What the hell happened to you?_ My subconscious smiled with awe and incredulity. Was I really ready to take such a huge step so quickly? Yes. The absolute surety of it was astounding, but true nonetheless.

I swallowed, suddenly nervous. _He could say no_. Looking down at Henry I spoke seriously, "Do you want him to stay with us?"

Henry grinned. "Of course. He makes you happy."

My lips tightened. "Yeah, but –"

"- I like him, too," he added; cognizant of my concerns as always. "And it will be great to have another guy around."

I stared into Henry's hazel eyes for several moments, but was only met with the same honesty as his words. A smile spread across my face without my permission. "Well, why don't you go ask him then?"

The sight of Henry rushing across the deck of the Jolly Roger toward Killian was one I knew I would always treasure. I watched as Henry animatedly relayed our message, knowing the instant Killian interpreted what he was really being offered. His startling eyes swung to find mine, searching for my sincerity much as I just had with Henry.

"_Please come home with us,"_ I whispered in my thoughts, forgetting for a second that the bond would reveal my wish to him. When his face broke into a stunning smile, I released the breath I'd unconsciously been holding. He didn't ask me if I was sure, and he didn't look for an explanation.

As he crossed to me – walking side-by-side with Henry – he simply said, _"I was hoping you'd ask, love." _

"Have everything you need?" I questioned, more as a courtesy than actual inquiry. That nervous part of me was now replaced with an odd giddiness that I somehow found even more disconcerting.

"I do now," Killian replied quietly. Those sapphires parading as his eyes beamed at me, obliterating my anxiousness and leaving nothing but his love in its wake. Distantly, I was aware of my pulse pounding in my chest again, though nothing could pull my focus from the man before me. In my mind, I saw myself leaning across the small space between us and pressing my lips firmly against his. My hand would weave through his dark hair, luxuriating in the soft texture against my fingers. I imagined sweeping my tongue against his as I let my other hand trail across the exposed skin of his chest before clasping the lapel of his coat and pulling him even closer.

"Um, mom?" Henry's voice eased through my thoughts. "You're kind of…glowing?"

My head turned toward him, eyes blinking too swiftly again. "It's my magic. It's got a mind of its own," I lied.

"_I dare say you're getting better at that, love,"_ Killian's thoughts complimented. Whether he meant the lying or the mental projection, I wasn't sure.

Henry's puzzled expression made it clear that more questions were on the way. But for once, luck was on my side. Several large droplets of rain splashed against the aged wood mere seconds before the sky opened up, releasing a torrent of water. Acting on impulse, the three of us bolted for the Beetle.

Killian took the pizza box from me as I fumbled for the keys. "Just put it in the back; we'll add it to the other leftovers when we get home," I said a bit breathlessly. He waited for Henry to climb in before setting the box on the adjacent seat and rushing around to the other side of the car. Our eyes met above the roof and we both laughed. I knew I was just as soaked as he was, but something about the joy radiating between us made me not care. We bent to settle into our seats at the same time, but a sudden crash swung our attention toward the nearby cannery.

"Henry, stay in the car and lock the doors," I commanded. Straightening to my full height and shutting the door as quietly as possible, I noticed Killian mirror my movements. I waited to hear the telltale click of the automatic locks before edging toward the building. I didn't even have to look back to know that Killian followed behind me, keeping an equal distance to me and the Beetle. Protecting us both.

The door of the cannery had obvious signs of forced entry. I reached into my jacket and retrieved my gun from the concealed holster, releasing the safety as I slowly pushed the wooden door open. My face tightened in a wince with each groan of the old hinges. How had I not noticed those the last time I was here?

The inside was dark, made even more so by the increasing storm dampening the afternoon sun. I fumbled at the light switch, but either the power was out, or it wasn't currently connected. With my back to the wall, I swept the gun from one side of the large space to the other, nearly jumping out of my skin at the sudden exclamation of an unfamiliar voice.

"Captain!"

"Smee," Killian commented darkly as he paused in the open doorway. "You've got a lot of explaining to do."

I kept my gun trained in the direction of the voice, even after the portly man appeared from the shadows with his hands raised. "Are you alone?" I questioned.

His nervous eyes darted from Killian to me. "Y-yes," he responded, his voice meeker than I would've expected. He turned to Killian again, the relief in his gaze palpable…and _strange_. Why would he be relieved? Was he happy to be caught, or were we missing something?

"_Something's not right,"_ I cautioned to Killian.

"Agreed. This miscreant has yet to confess," he remarked, the sting of his anger transforming my Killian into his alter ego. "Lying, spineless traitor…" he breathed out. There was no doubting his sudden anger, but I could feel true hurt coming from him, too.

"No, no, you've got it all wrong!" Smee exclaimed. "At least, I think you do. I would never betray you…" His eyes widened as he observed Killian's gathering fury.

My arm was beginning to ache from maintaining the same stance, but I forced myself to continue holding the gun upright as I glanced behind Smee, peering into the dim room for any other clues. A dirty sleeping bag lay crumpled against the wall next to a jug filled with water. A metal barrel was tipped on its side nearby, likely accounting for the noise we'd originally heard.

"How long have you been staying here?" I asked, nodding toward the makeshift camp.

"I…I don't know," Smee replied. He shrugged and turned his palms upward in the universal symbol of confusion.

"You were following us this morning," I stated. "Why?"

"I wanted to speak with you," he spoke to Killian, "but when I saw you with the Sherriff I wasn't sure…" His voice trailed off, but his intention was easy enough to read. The last time we'd seen Mr. Smee, Killian was very much still bent on his revenge rather than being my ally. I suppose it wasn't entirely out of the question to think Smee would wait to find out Killian's position before revealing himself. _And just when did you get so understanding?_ My conscience inquired.

"So you ran like the coward you are," Killian surmised.

Smee shifted. He opened his mouth to speak but seemingly couldn't find the words. "I…I d-don't know."

Killian lunged forward, brandishing his hook in front of Smee's face. "You'd best start producing answers…_mate_."

"_Killian,"_ I shouted in my thoughts. _"Look at him. He's terrified."_

"He bloody well should be," he replied aloud. His emotions roiled throughout his entire body, making my own skin feel too tight, too prickly.

Eyeing Killian's one time first mate, I noted his genuine anxiety. He wasn't scared of Killian – though he certainly took his captain's ire seriously – he had the distinct look of someone who had no idea what was going on. I'd seen that look on countless marks, not to mention most of the residents of the town once the curse ended. Something was definitely not right here. While it was obvious to me Smee was involved in whatever plot had been set against us, his willingness was a different question. I'd always prided myself on my ability to read people, and Smee's story was not adding up. Making a decision I hoped I wouldn't regret, I put the gun away and took out my cell phone.

"What are you doing?" Killian asked with distinct disbelief. "You aren't thinking of letting him _go_?"

I scoffed. "Of course not. I'm calling David. We're bringing him in." Speaking directly to Smee, I began the familiar lines of dialogue that anyone who'd ever watched cable tv could recite from memory. "You have the right to remain silent…"

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Thank you, thank you, thank you to all of you wonderful people who have taken Hollow Beginnings into your heart. I am still awed by the response! It is an honor to be a part of this fandom, and I truly appreciate all your kindness. Shout out again to my BrOTP Yettoseeyoufail, and my tumblr friends; you brighten my day!

Review?


	19. Gathering Force

**A/N: **Once again, I apologize for the delay. For me, writing is definitely a labor of love – sometimes more labor than love (as is the case with this chapter.) If you recall, we left off with Killian and Emma discovering a very confused Smee lurking in the cannery. Just what does Mr. Smee know, I wonder?

Huge thanks to **Yettoseeyoufail** for your unwavering support!

**Chapter 19**

**Gathering Force**

The recognizable clicking of metal cuffs locking into place was a sound I'd grown far too used to over the past decade, though the feeling it inspired depended on the application. When used on one of my marks, the sound was accompanied by the sweet taste of vindication. When used on me, it just pissed me off. Neither emotion suited our current situation. Too much uncertainty lingered. "There we go. These should keep you nice and comfortable while you decide on your story," David said as he tucked a key away in his pocket and stepped away from the smaller man.

"They're a bit tight," Smee groused as he twisted his wrists, both of which were now secured to either arm of my desk chair.

"Perhaps we'll loosen your bonds when you decide to loosen your tongue," Killian muttered, his eyes fixed firmly on his hook while his thumb pricked over the tip, inspecting its sharpness.

His little display did not go unnoticed by our suspect. David and I may have been the ones with badges, but Killian commanded Smee's full attention. Killian's demeanor had advertised 'pissed off and lethal' loud and clear from the moment we found Smee in the cannery. He'd managed to remain somewhat calm until Mary Margaret drove off with Henry, but his inner emotions were nearly biting with agitation, and his remarks and physical taunts had only grown more cutting as the minutes passed. While I had a hard time taking his threats seriously, I had to wonder what bouts of violence his one-time shipmate had witnessed at the hand of his captain. Smee watched Killian like a frightened animal awaiting his demise; a foreboding sense of dread casting a sheen of sweat upon his forehead.

"_I think you're scaring him,"_ I commented lightly to Killian's mind. _"Maybe tone down the old persona just a tad?"_

Killian's eyes swept to mine, his usual expressive blue somewhat shuttered by his extreme irritation. _"At the moment, it is not a persona. This is who I am to him…to anyone who would threaten you or anyone I care for."_

I bit down on my lower lip to keep my sudden urge to smile at bay, strangely pleased by his protectiveness. Apparently, being in love with him negated my usual aversion to male posturing. _"We don't know how he's involved in any of this. Innocent until proven guilty,"_ I thought, but I knew he'd pick up on my hint of approval despite my words.

Oblivious to the silent conversation surrounding him, David loomed over the seated man, leveling him with a heavy stare before speaking; "So Mr. Smee, do you know why we've brought you in?"

Keeping his focus on Killian, Smee answered, "I can only assume you're seeking information." He tested the handcuffs again before finally dragging his gaze to David. "Though I don't know why you felt the need to shackle me. Do you think I've committed some sort of crime?"

"Come, come, Mr. Smee; coyness has never suited you," Killian jeered, his voice positively drenched with sarcasm. He crossed his arms over his chest, making sure the shiny metal was still prominently displayed. "Best not to try our patience."

"Why were you following us this morning?" I asked, beyond ready to cut to the chase.

Smee shifted his attention to me slowly, allowing a lengthy pause to pass before answering. "It's like I already said; I was hoping to speak with the Captain, but when I saw him with you, I wasn't sure how best to proceed. You weren't on the friendliest terms as I recall." Noting Killian's defensive stance by my side he added, "Seems quite a lot has changed."

I felt my lips turn up in a version of a smile, though anyone who knew me also knew I was anything but pleased. My voice was quiet and deliberate as I addressed him; "You expect us to believe you don't remember anything since before we left for Neverland?"

His face scrunched. "I remember being a rat."

Killian scoffed. Loudly. "Try again, mate."

Smee's gaze swung to his captain. Swallowing thickly and tilting his chin up by several notches he spat, "_He_ cursed me! The Dark One. And he took my hat."

"You mean this one?" Killian taunted, producing the familiar red cap from one of the inner pockets of his coat. "And just how the blazes did it end up in my quarters?"

Smee looked truly puzzled. His eyes squinted in deep concentration. "I…I…don't remember."

"He doesn't remember," Killian mocked, his eyes rolling toward the ceiling.

"Well you've got our attention now. So what was it you wanted to speak to him about?" I asked, nodding toward Killian.

Smee licked his lips nervously. "I was hoping you had some information about what was going on? One moment I'm a rat, the next I'm standing in the middle of the docks without any idea of how I got there."

David hummed lightly. "And when was that exactly?" He stepped nearer to Smee. "You were found at an active crime scene, not the docks."

"_Dave's caught on to something. His story doesn't align with the few facts we know,"_ Killian silently mused. _"Perhaps a little more…encouragement is warranted?"_

I felt the air by my side shift as Killian made to move forward. _"Wait,"_ I cautioned, _"Let me try a different angle." _ Approaching Smee somewhat leisurely, I dragged a second chair over and sat with my elbows braced against my knees. Softening my expression I started, "You're right. You're here because we do need information." I glanced back at Killian and my father. David caught on immediately to my tactic. Killian? He looked and felt wary, but at the same time I sensed his underlying faith in me.

Smee straightened in his chair. "I'm not sure how much help I can be, but I'll tell you whatever I know."

I smiled tightly. "Great. That's really great." I cleared my throat. "Someone recently attacked Hook very near to where we found you."

Smee's eyes widened. At the same time, Killian cursed in his thoughts. _"Is it really wise to reveal your hand?"_

"_Haven't you heard the expression give him some rope and let him hang himself? Trust me."_ I urged.

"And you suspect me?" Smee cried incredulously.

"It is quite a coincidence," David remarked. "And given how little you seem to remember, it's a natural conclusion you're involved."

"I couldn't be….could I?" Smee looked at the three of us in turn. The wheels turning feverishly in his brain were painfully visible across his features. That feeling I got when we first picked him up returned, that he really was clueless. I peered over at Killian, taking in the sharpness of his eyes as he studied Smee's every reaction. _"Well? You know him best. What's your take?"_ I asked silently.

He met my gaze briefly, but before he could answer we were interrupted by the sudden arrival of Tinker Bell pushing through the door, two small vials clutched in her hand. "I've got it," she called out a bit breathlessly, her face a flush of enthusiasm and eagerness. Her steps halted abruptly as she noted our interrogation. "You!" She exclaimed, her delicate features quickly transformed by her recognition of Smee.

"It's nice to see you, too," Smee commented wryly before confusion clouded his face once more. "Though, I must say it's surprising to see you here."

"I wish I could say the same," she muttered. Her eyes narrowed. _I wonder what that's all about?_ I mused.

"_Don't ask, love,"_ Killian replied. I hadn't realized I'd shared that particular thought with him.

Tink lifted her face in the universal symbol of an affronted woman. "Well, I guess this is no longer needed," she said as she indicated the potions in her hand.

Standing and pushing my chair aside I asked, "What's with the second one?"

Tink looked to her hand as if suddenly remembering the additional vial. "Oh, this one is for the prince." She held it out to David. "It's the antidote to the Dreamshade. Rumpelstiltskin finished it earlier today, and Belle sent it along with the tracking potion."

David accepted the vial with the slightest trace of apprehension. Given all our swirling suspicions surrounding its maker I could hardly blame him. But then, what choice did he really have? He met my gaze with the steely resolve Prince Charming was known for. "Bottoms up," he saluted then tipped the contents into his mouth. His face wrinkled in disgust. Holding his hands before him, he waited for several counts for any further reactions before sighing loudly and nodding once. "I guess that's that."

My brow arched. "Shouldn't you have waited to try that when Mary Margaret was around?"

"That's precisely why I did it now," he replied calmly as he set the vial on the desk.

"_It's as if he learned nothing in Neverland!"_ I mentally chastised.

"_Can't blame a man for wanting to protect those he loves,"_ Killian commented softly.

I shook my head, choosing to let the remark slide. "How do you know it even worked?"

David shrugged. "I guess I'll just have to wait and see. But I do feel better…more like myself."

A small pang of pained jealousy swept across my bond with Killian, though it was gone just as quickly as it appeared. I didn't even need to guess to know what or rather _who_ he was thinking about. Had the antidote existed when his brother was cursed, his life would have been very different.

_But then he wouldn't be here with you. _

"I suppose I owe you my thanks once more," David spoke to Killian.

"Oh? And how's that, mate?" Killian inquired.

David grinned, enjoying some sort of private irony. "If you hadn't tried to poison Gold with Dreamshade, he would never have been motivated to find a cure."

Killian matched David's smirk, the strange tension of the entire situation momentarily halted in light of one of fate's more interesting jokes. "Happy to oblige."

Tink moved to stand beside me, gesturing toward Smee. "What shall we do with him, then?"

"He claims ignorance to the entire episode," Killian growled, all the lightness from just a moment ago stripped from his countenance.

"Ignorance? As in not involved? I find that hard to believe," Tink commented.

I stared long and hard at Smee. He'd remained quiet throughout the entire exchange between Killian, Tink and David. The nervousness had cleared from his eyes, replaced by exhaustion and an almost sad resolution. I'd detained enough truly guilty people in the past to predict patterns of behavior. Not to mention my penchant for detecting liars. Smee was undoubtedly involved, but he honestly had no memory of how. "He doesn't remember," I stated.

Something in his expression shifted and a slight trembling played around his mouth. "You believe me?" He said, astonishment prevailing in his tone. Relief washed his features. "Truly you are as merciful as you are beautiful."

Killian's carefully controlled anger pulled against its leash. His thoughts projected an image of his hook pressed against Smee's windpipe. The sudden flash of danger sent an inexplicable thrill coiling in my stomach. I blinked slowly and bit down on my lip again as Killian stepped directly behind me, the heat of his jealousy a welcome presence against my back.

Cocking my head to the side, I graced Smee with another of my patented smiles, this one almost pitying. "I believe that you don't remember. That doesn't make you innocent."

"You could try a revival spell," Tink suggested. "I've seen them work to restore memories in the past."

"What does that involve?" David asked.

"Emma needs to channel her magic into his mind and push past whatever barrier is preventing the memories to surface," she explained. Her blue eyes met mine with optimism. "Just place your palms on either side of his head."

"Not bloody likely," Killian interjected gruffly. "She'll not have any contact with him."

I glanced at him curiously. _"You can't seriously be jealous?"_ I thought.

His tongue prodded his cheek as he scratched behind his ear before motioning to Smee. Voice strained, he remarked aloud, "Clearly he's under some sort of enchantment. There's no telling what effects Smee has suffered let alone what might transfer to someone else."

Despite his attempt to explain his reaction, Killian's thoughts revealed his baser nature. I saw myself slung into his arms as he crossed the gangplank of the Jolly Roger and commandeered me to the captain's quarters, warning off his crew from any interruptions with his trademark glare. In his imagining, I was garbed in a ridiculously low-cut corset, my hair loose and tumbling over my shoulders and an exaggerated come-hither expression on my face. While not thinking any particular words, a distinctive feeling of underlying possessiveness transferred across our link. He may have been genuinely worried about my safety, but he also hated the idea of me touching another man, no matter the reason.

"_So that's what you fantasize about?"_ I teased.

His eyes flickered to mine. _"You weren't meant to see that, love." _

"_Well, I have my helm so why not have your bar wench? _My brow arched. _"But now is not the time. Later, maybe?"_

The lines of tension around his eyes eased minutely as his lips twitched into a slight smirk. _"Aye. Later."_

"Is it dangerous for her to try?" David directed to Tink, effectively ending my tangent and routing my thoughts back on track.

"It shouldn't be," she replied. Facing me she continued, "You'll just need to focus your magic outward, push into his mind as if reading a book."

"I'm not sure I like the sound of this," Smee commented.

"And when did we solicit your opinion on the matter?" Killian snapped. "You've already agreed to help in any way we deem necessary. Isn't that right?"

I placed my hand on Killian's left arm, silently pushing his hook down before stepping closer to Smee. His attention vacillated between my face and the pirate behind my shoulder, and frankly, it was starting to piss me off. Killian may be his captain – respect for him was no doubt ingrained at this point – but I was no wilting flower. Channeling my energy to the center of my palm, I felt the telltale warmth of my magic contained in a shimmering, white sphere. The ease at which it followed my command was momentarily astounding, but then, I'd been inadvertently practicing all week.

Smee's eyes filled with panic as they trained on the power in my hand, Captain Hook seemingly forgotten. His face turned ashen and he struggled against his bonds once more. "P-please, I told you everything I know."

"Exactly. Everything _you_ know. But we need more." I reached out toward Smee, pausing as he flinched as far from me as possible. "I'm not going to hurt you," I soothed. At least, I didn't think I was. "Don't move."

"_Be careful, Swan,"_ Killian urged. His mind struggled to keep his arm from pulling me back.

Tentatively, I covered Smee's temples with my hands and closed my eyes. Clearing my mind was easier said than done given my acute awareness of Killian, but after a moment, I felt my thoughts sweep to the side of my conscience while my magic probed the memories within my grasp. Smee's thoughts came to me as easily as flipping the channels on the television, but I had no idea what I was looking for. Through his eyes, I saw myself framed by fading sunlight in the door of the cannery, Killian a dark shadow behind me. I could smell the musty dampness of his sleeping bag and the acrid tang of chemicals and smoke filling my nostrils, though confusion prevented me from understanding the why and how of my whereabouts. Several other innocuous images flashed: rifling through the dumpster outside of Granny's; a thundering heartbeat as my feet slapped against the pavement, running through a sleepy neighborhood; the light of a lamp glinting off Killian's hook.

I concentrated on one particular glimpse – a two-by-four propped against a brick wall – pushing against the seams of Smee's memory for some sort of explanation, but I encountered a vast nothingness. Where the image had been sharp and clear one second, the next it was distorted into jagged lines before being engulfed by blackness. Choosing a different thread, this time returning to the strange smell Smee remembered in the cannery, I again tried to expand the view, but was met with the same juxtaposition. Not only had someone tampered with his memory; they'd completely removed key details.

I exhaled sharply and let my arms drop. A wave of exhaustion stole across my senses. "His memory's been wiped," I confirmed. "At least anything recent."

"Are you absolutely certain?" Killian questioned, his mounting frustration evident across his face and within his tone. Narrowing his eyes at Smee he continued, "He always was a crafty liar."

"A trait which you valued at one point, if I'm not mistaken," Smee countered. Shifting in his chair, he met Killian's eyes with a bit of hesitance. "You must know that if I had anything useful to share I would, Captain. My allegiance still lies with you."

Studying Smee's face as he spoke, I noticed a misplaced sense of relief gliding across his expression. For someone still cuffed to a chair with several distrusting interrogators still nearby, he was a bit quick to grasp any bit of reprieve. My built-in bullshit alarm began chiming. "There was _one_ thing," I started. "Just a quick flash that had me wondering…"

Smee's features tightened. "What was it?"

"You remembered something about a large piece of wood. It was a memory all by itself. Seems strange."

He shrugged, his gaze drifting across the floor. "I have no idea what that was."

A tight coil of intuition settled in my stomach. Killian stiffened in reaction. Glaring at Smee I stated, "You're lying. You do know something."

Smee fidgeted again as an expression of practiced ignorance settled on his features. "I don't know what you mean. You said yourself that my memory was erased."

"No. I said anything recent…" I let my stare harden as I waited for Smee's tell to reveal itself. "But you were returned to your human state quite a few days ago. If I had to guess, I'd say it was around the same time the cannery was first vandalized." My thoughts pinpointed on clues David had mentioned somewhat in passing: broken bottles and a fire in a trash can.

Seeing my suspicions, Killian stepped closer to the increasingly uncomfortable man, his look predatory. "Just how did you break that curse?"

Smee gulped. "I don't remember."

"Lie," I replied. A hint of a smile appeared on my lips, one born from pity rather than pleasure. "You had help, didn't you?"

Smee opened his mouth to speak, but just as his mouth formed the word, his voice strangled into silence. Naked panic caused his eyes to slightly bulge in his too-round face as his throat strained to make a sound. He thrashed in his seat before gulping in air.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Killian growled while watching Smee's torment.

"Is he choking?" David asked.

"On what?" I remarked. "No. This is something else." Focusing back on Smee I demanded, "Who are you working for?" Once more, Smee tried to reply, but whatever had taken hold of his memories had seemingly done such a thorough job that even attempting to access the information was blocked. I exhaled loudly. "It's no use. Whoever did this to him must've expected him to be caught. There's nothing more I can do."

"Perhaps if you joined your magic?" Tink suggested, glancing hopefully between Killian and me. "Emma's alone may not have been strong enough, but together you might be able to see more of the memories?"

"What do you mean…join their magic?" David asked. He looked at Killian with genuine disbelief. "You've got magic now, too?"

Killian scratched behind his ear again before making a vague gesture with his hand. "Surprise?"

"It's part of the bond," I muttered quickly, not wanting to share too many details given our current audience.

David hesitated before nodding stiffly. Mumbling under his breath, I could just make out him saying, "This should be interesting."

"_If only he knew, eh love?"_ Killian thought before offering me his open hand. "Shall we give it a go, then?"

Tinker Bell smiled with encouragement. "Just link your power and do the exact same thing you did before."

I tried not to let doubt reign. Honestly, hadn't I witnessed enough feats of the fantastical to at least give it a try? Killian had healed me with his magic, after all. Searching his open expression and his feelings, I was greeted with the same support and conviction Killian always showed me. Even when I didn't believe in myself, he somehow did. Unfailingly. With only a hint of reservation, I placed my palm in his.

A low thrum spread down my arm, radiating from our point of contact. His magic felt familiar, yet foreign all at the same time. I sensed my own white magic surrounding a core that was uniquely him, growing stronger with every passing second and filling a part of me I didn't realize was empty. _"Are you doing that?"_ I questioned.

"_I'm not sure; I've no idea what I'm supposed to do,"_ he answered honestly.

"_Well, whatever it is, I think it's working."_

I lifted my free hand toward Smee, ignoring the terror-stricken look on his face. Touching his temple, I forced myself not to flinch away from the feeling of his damp hair and sweaty skin. I closed my eyes, preparing to enter his thoughts again, but was stopped by Killian tugging my hand.

"Last time you had to encase his worthless head between both your lovely hands," Killian said.

I quirked my brow. "That's where you come in." _Obviously_.

He smirked before lifting his hook. I mentally kicked myself as flames of embarrassment licked at my cheeks. How had I forgotten? _Maybe because he's able to satisfy you better than any man with two hands ever has?_

"_I'm flattered, Swan. Truly."_

"_You would be." _I had to get better at controlling my thoughts around him. Rolling my eyes, I let go of his hand, but as soon as the connection broke, so did the flow of his magic. Looking between him and Tinker Bell I questioned; "Any bright ideas?"

Killian stepped behind me and wrapped his arm around my waist. He slipped his hand beneath my shirt, laying it gently over my bare skin, and that warm current reappeared. His voice was a whisper in my ear; "Will this work, love?"

"I think so," I answered, my own voice shakier than it should've been.

David cleared his throat but didn't offer a comment. At this point, what could he really say?

I took Smee's head between my hands and closed my eyes. His thoughts came quickly, racing to the surface as if drawn by a magnet. Apparently, the boost in power from Killian did make a big difference. I focused once more on the image of the wooden beam, pushing against the altered edges. The frayed strands of the missing memory twisted and tangled, trying to refit into a recognizable form. I saw a thick-fingered hand grab the two-by-four and lift it into the air. _"Are you seeing this?"_ I asked Killian.

"_Aye."_ The gravel in his voice was joined by his renewed fury. Distantly, I felt his fingertips dig into my skin.

The beam swung in an arc before connecting with a head full of dark hair. The image of Killian falling to the ground – eyes closed and face slackened – touched my heart painfully, but also validated my suspicions. Smee was the one to attack Killian. But why?

I dropped my hands and leaned back against my pirate, sensing the tightness of his frame as he struggled to contain his anger. "Why?" I asked Smee. Such a simple word, but filled with heavy implications.

Smee whimpered. "I don't know. _I don't know_. I swear! I don't remember any of that."

Killian stepped to my side, keeping his hand anchored on my hip even as he leaned toward the increasingly agitated man. "And my heart? Of what use could that be to one such as you?"

"It's of no use to him," I answered. "That wasn't your purpose though, was it?"

Smee gulped, his face starting to turn red again. "You'll just have to look for yourself," he murmured as he bowed his head.

Killian's fingers flexed against my side. _"He's given up,"_ he commented. _"Perhaps he has been telling the truth all along?"_

"_You can tell that by his giving in?" _

"_I've known this man for centuries. Never has he conceded unless there really was no other course."_ Killian shifted so that his front pressed along my back once more. His fingers crept beneath the hem of my shirt, lightly stroking along my lower abdomen before settling just below my navel. My breath caught as his lips brushed against the shell of my ear. "Try again, love."

I blinked slowly before reaching forward. For the third time I held Smee's mind within my power. Now that I knew what I was doing, it was pathetically easy to call the images I desired. However, no amount of magic could easily fill-in the holes of Smee's Swiss cheese-like memories. I prodded along the border of Killian's assault, trying to find a clue about who tried to take his heart. But had that happened before Killian was knocked out or after? Did Smee do it on behalf of someone else or for another reason entirely?

Wading further into his thoughts, I searched for other abnormalities, lingering over anything resembling the cannery. Smee remembered being puzzled over a particular smell, but not the cause of it. I focused our magic on an odd image of what looked like a view from a warehouse floor: dirt and debris covered a concrete slab only an inch or so from whatever perspective I was viewing the scene through. A bitter odor caused my nostrils to flare, but the scene darkened before I could make sense of it. I pushed against the dark curtain, willing it to reveal its secrets, only to be met with further wisps of nothingness.

My head started to throb as my pulse increased. _"I can't get past it…If only we had more power," I thought. _

Killian's soft lips grazed my ear again and a swell of that perfect hope and love I was swiftly associating with him soothed my rising tension. The memory in Smee's mind rippled, hazy images appearing within the shadows. _"Do that again; harder this time,"_ I directed to Killian.

"_This is hardly the time or place, love…"_ he teased, his fingertips dancing across my sensitive skin again.

"_Shh, it was working,"_ I chided. _"It made the magic stronger."_

"_Of course it did,"_ he replied, a hint of the smug bastard I'd first met ripe in his tone. For once, I didn't mind.

I heard him mutter, "Sorry, Dave," before his mouth returned to my neck. He trailed kisses beneath my jaw before pressing his lips firmly to my cheek.

Whatever magic we'd harnessed between the two of us flared brightly, illuminating the shadowed memory like a sudden ray of sunlight. From this perspective, the cannery loomed overhead; the industrial lights swinging perilously from what seemed like a hundred feet above. A strange, viscous liquid coated me, or rather Smee, smelling of herbs and something sharper like astringent. Phantom pain distorted our shared vision before the ceiling was suddenly much closer. Smee held his two hands before him with extreme confusion. A sudden tapping sound from behind him drew his attention, but he tripped as he turned – unsteady in his returned human form. As he fell, he knocked into a nearby barrel and the scene darkened again.

Exhaustion descended upon me and I sagged against Killian, dropping my hands from Smee's head. For his part, Smee looked simultaneously wiped out and strangely on edge. I met his eyes knowingly. He'd seen what I had. As his memory came to a close, just before his body would've slammed against the concrete, he'd identified what had made the sudden sound: a manicured hand wrapped around an ornate, gold cane handle, tapping it impatiently.

"Emma, are you alright?" David asked.

I straightened from Killian's arms and turned. Tink and David wore matching expressions of anxious concern. Killian, on the other hand, was absolutely livid – his feelings pulsating like a giant raw nerve.

"I'll kill him," he threatened softly.

"Who?" Tink asked.

"Gold," I replied. "He's the cause of the mess in the cannery."

David sighed. "Why am I'm not surprised? I take it he also returned Mr. Smee's humanity?" I nodded, still trying to process the little I'd seen. "And he's behind Hook's attack?"

"We can only assume –" I started to say, but Killian cut me off.

"Of course he bloody well is. He's been trying to kill me for centuries."

"But that's just it," I started. Since the very moment Killian had been hurt, I'd blamed Gold. Something about his interest in our bond had never sat right with me; having it confirmed that he was somehow involved, even if only indirectly, was no big surprise. But it still didn't make any sense. As Killian pointed out, Gold could've killed him any number of times in the past, but he didn't. So why now? Why help me save his life only to take his heart a few days later? "Gold is involved. I don't think any of us are surprised by that. But why go through all this trouble? Why save your life one day just to kill you the next? Why turn Smee back into a man?"

"Does it matter?" Tink inquired. "He's the Dark One; there's no telling what he's up to."

"Exactly," I affirmed. "We're no better off now than we were before."

"Belle." Smee suddenly uttered. Our four pairs of eyes swung down on the restrained man.

"What about Belle?" David demanded.

"Those memories…I still don't know what all happened…but I remember something about Belle."

Killian and I held each others' gaze meaningfully before he spoke, "It was because of your attempt against Belle that you were cursed into a rat to begin with."

Smee bobbed his head. "That I do remember, Captain. But this was later…" He shrugged and twisted his wrists again.

"It's something," David suggested. "Maybe another visit to Gold's shop is in order?"

"Aye," Killian agreed. "_And you'll not be going alone,"_ he added just for me.

"I just don't understand," Tinker Bell commented. "I was just with Belle. She was just as anxious to discover what's going on as you all are."

I surveyed our small gathering wearily. Interrogations were notorious for causing fatigue, both for the perp and the interviewers, but this was more. Another day of worrying over my loved ones was drawing to a close without the promise of peace. The soft glow of encroaching twilight cast hues of purple and orange through the station windows, calling forth a strange resolve in my chest. Enough was enough.

I caught Killian's eyes again, momentarily struck by the gift shining in them. It was exactly one week since I bound his life force to mine…approximately one hundred sixty eight hours since I struggled to claim him for fear of what it revealed about my own feelings. And yet, I now felt like I'd loved him forever. I couldn't imagine – didn't want to even try to imagine – a day without him. And I was so very tired of waiting for that other shoe to drop. I wanted my time of peace, of hope…of love. I deserved it. And so did he.

Facing David I said, "We'll have to hold Smee for now. Would you please process him and then check in with Mary Margaret and Henry?" Turning back to Killian and Tink I added, "We've got a pawn shop to visit. This ends tonight."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Thank you for reading! (And reviewing, favoriting, following!)

More soon!


	20. Lost Together

**A/N: **Let the ride commence!

**Chapter 20**

**Lost Together**

Gold's Pawn Shop was – not surprisingly – empty. But the chime on the door quickly produced a frazzled version of Belle. "Rumpel?" Something in her voice alerted me that she wasn't simply acknowledging an expected return. The disappointment etched on her features as she saw us confirmed it. Her eyes swept over Tinker Bell and Killian before she schooled her expression into a neutral, practiced welcome. "What can I do for you?"

"Where's Gold?" I asked. If my tone was brusque it couldn't be helped.

Tink stepped into my periphery, the unused vial of tracking potion held in her palm. She set in on the counter and Belle studied it with sincere confusion. "Didn't it work?"

"It wasn't needed, after all. They'd already found him by the time I got there," Tink replied.

Belle's luminous eyes flicked to Killian warily before meeting mine. "Then you've caught the culprit?" She smiled tentatively as her shoulders relaxed. "Rumpel will be so relieved."

Somehow I really doubted that.

"And where is the illustrious pawn broker?" Killian inquired, all deadly charm and transparent disdain. Mirth and malcontent danced across our bond and while I could hardly fault him, it was highly distracting. Really, for a centuries-old pirate he was pretty terrible at controlling his emotions. Though, I could easily understand how the thought of finally being able to _legally _persecute his personal nemesis appealed to all facets of his personality.

"I don't know," Belle responded quietly. "He left rather quickly about an hour ago."

My expression tightened. "Is something wrong?"

Belle's eyes glistened. Granted, I didn't know her all that well, but I'd never seen her look so…defeated. "He was acting strange."

"Strange how?" Tinker Bell asked.

"He wouldn't let me near him. He's been distancing himself since your return. But this was different. I'm worried," Belle admitted. She took a deep breath and forced another smile. "So, did Smee confess then?"

"Actually, no," I started then frowned at my choice of words. I _still_ hated that expression. "His memory was tampered with." I softened my voice, conscious of Belle's state. "He did indicate that Gold was involved. And he mentioned your name."

"Me?" She sputtered. "That's just absurd! I mean…I would never intentionally harm anyone, and Rumpel…" her voice trailed off.

A heavy silence descended on all of us as Belle processed whatever thoughts were running rampant in her mind. As much as she loved him, Belle also knew him. Only days before, we'd talked about our respective men and how much they both struggled to walk in the light after so many years of darkness. Just as we'd already come to the conclusion of his likely guilt, she would be a fool not to consider it, too.

_What's that expression about fools in love, Emma?_ I glared at my conscious. Love-blind she may be, but Belle was no fool.

"I know this is probably hard, but we do need to find him. Do you have any idea where he may have gone?" I asked gently.

She shook her head. "No. He was in a hurry, so I didn't press him."

"We need to find him."

Belle nodded once. "I understand. But please, don't rush to any conclusions. He really has changed."

"Or so he'd like us to believe," Killian commented. Belle scowled in his direction and I rushed to change the conversation before my darling other half completely buried any chance he had of retaining Belle's cordiality.

"When he left, did he take anything with him?" I asked, slipping back into interrogation mode.

"Not that I saw. In fact, he even left this behind," Belle said as she reached behind her and held up Gold's cane. "He hardly goes anywhere without it."

Tinker Bell stepped lightly to Belle's side, wrapping a supportive arm around her friend's shoulders. "I'm sure he's alright," she consoled.

The gesture – however placating – seemed to bring some of the spark back to Belle's eyes. Her stubborn faith in Gold's goodness would've been inspirational if I didn't have an intimate connection with his nemesis. Killian's thoughts on the matter were definitely moved, but not in a tender way. A curious vision of that cane raining blow after blow over his body was chased by an image of a roaring fire fueled by its two broken halves.

"_Do I want to know what that's all about?"_ I probed.

He mentally shrugged. _"Not all of my fantasies are of a carnal nature."_

"He may have gone to see his son," Belle continued. Looking to Tink she suggested, "We can start there?"

"It's a good thought. Even if we don't find him, Bae may have an idea of where he's gone," Tink conceded.

I nodded. "Good. We'll search the town," I said, indicating Killian and myself. "You've got my number if you find him."

"Yes, of course," Belle replied. She laid Gold's cane across the glass countertop and followed us out of the shop. As she locked the door, I looked around the surrounding area, noting the quiet street, closed shops and awakening street lamps. Most of Storybrooke's citizens were likely at home, sitting down to supper and blissfully unaware that another confrontation loomed on the horizon. The last rays of dusk fought to shine through the encroaching darkness; their brittle fingers a stark contrast to the heavy shadows of night. The scent of ozone – fresh from the late afternoon storm – clung to the mild breeze and I shivered, though I was neither afraid nor cold. Beneath my skin, my magic entwined with my intuition, setting each of my senses on edge. Another storm was coming: this one figurative rather than literal.

"_Are you alright, love?"_ Killian's concerned voice soothed over my mind. I felt the imagined trace of his fingers sliding over my cheek even though his hand hung loosely between us.

"_Aye,"_ I told him, using one of his own words affectionately. "_It's just a feeling…"_

"_That we're almost to the end,"_ he finished. I nodded, grateful for once that someone was so attuned to me that I didn't have to explain myself. He just _knew_. Killian's posture straightened, a sense of seriousness buffering his lingering anger and sharpening his mind. _Here_ was the naval officer tempered by centuries of harsh living, driven and focused almost to a fault. _Here_ was the man who'd lay down his life for those that he loved. And he loved me. I'd been wrong earlier, unfair even, when I'd slighted his control over his emotions. Instead I should've marveled that a man who'd been through so much was still capable of such intense feelings.

"Where shall we start looking?" Killian asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine," I answered, though even as I spoke an idea began whispering in my conscience. Why should we spend time searching blindly when Gold himself had already provided us with a shortcut?

Killian's coat brushed against my arm as he stepped backwards, preparing to head in the opposite direction of Belle and Tinker Bell. Reaching down, I caught his fingers and halted his steps. _"Wait,"_ I directed, gesturing toward the retreating backs of the two women. I watched as they disappeared around the corner leading to Granny's boarding house before turning back to the pawn shop. "I hope this works," I muttered, holding my palm over the handle and directing my magic to fill the keyhole. I imagined the tumblers lifting one by one until I heard the soft click of the lock giving way. Luckily, in her haste to leave, Belle hadn't slid the deadbolt into place.

"I've always said you've got a little bit of pirate in you, Swan," Killian remarked, pride thick in his voice. I met his grin with one of my own and pushed into the store. The tracking potion sat untouched next to the infamous cane. Their pairing - the question and the solution – could not have been more perfect if fate had set them together itself. Fate…or someone with an equally uncanny grasp of future events.

"Gold's not stupid. He didn't leave this behind on accident. He wants us to find him." I met Killian's eyes resolutely. "Let's not disappoint him."

**E&K&E&K&E&K  
><strong>

As it turned out, the tracking potion worked almost too well. Gold's cane nearly took out the front window in its excitement to reunite with its master. Moving quickly through the town, Killian and I soon found ourselves following the enchanted piece of wood deeper into the forest which bordered Storybrooke_. Naturally,_ I thought; _where else would one expect to have a showdown with a fairy-tale villain?_

Killian had been unusually quiet since we'd left the shelter of the buildings. Even his thoughts were guarded. A tenuous barrier constructed of what felt like apprehension halted the normal flow of awareness I'd become accustomed to sharing with him. Our bond was still intact, but whatever was on his mind was warding its full effects – whether he realized it or not – and I didn't like it. He stood less than three feet away from me, I could hear his breaths as we trudged up the hill, but without the familiar presence of his mind I felt adrift. Strange how quickly someone could become dependent on something…or someone.

I looked over at him, frowning at the pinched look around his eyes. _"What's wrong?"_ I thought loudly.

He glanced in my direction before directing his gaze back on the floating stick before us. _"Aside from the usual?"_ he replied. Cheeky as his words were, they lacked his normal bite. I tried to filter them through the anxious feelings I could sense coming from him, but I still wasn't sure what was causing them.

"_Confronting Rumpelstiltskin should be old hat to you,"_ I offered.

Killian's eyes flashed to mine once more, the familiar color nearly impossible to detect in the weak beam of my flashlight. Nonetheless, I felt the heaviness of his stare, could see the emotion churning behind his gaze even as he kept his thoughts shielded. Whatever was bothering him was ratcheting up my own nerves, bond or no bond. _"This is different,"_ he finally admitted.

_Different how_? I wondered to myself. I thought about asking him to clarify – feeling without the shadow of a doubt that we needed to be fully united when we faced Gold – but just as I formed the words, the cane stopped moving. Killian stepped in front of me immediately, his hook lifted and at the ready. I gripped the flashlight tighter in my palm and shone it three hundred and sixty degrees around us. Just beyond the hovering stick, the parade of tree trunks thinned, suggesting a clearing. _Of course_, I thought. _The well: where all good Storybrooke villains go to concoct their nefarious plans._ Honestly, I could've kicked myself for not having guessed sooner. What a waste of a perfectly good tracking potion.

"_He's there,"_ I motioned ahead. A growing sense of trepidation swirled in the pit of my stomach. Nothing good had ever come out of dealings with that well. Had we been wrong all along to assume this was just about Killian and me? Was Gold planning another coup on the town? Not if I had anything to say about it.

I stepped past Killian, feeling my magic already sparking beneath my skin. "Swan, wait!" he exclaimed as his hand curled around my arm, holding me back from charging through the remaining copse of trees. "Is it really wise to rush headfirst into a confrontation without knowing what he's after?"

"Don't tell me you're scared?" I lifted my brow, though whether it was meant as a tease or in surprise was left for us both to ponder.

He scowled. "Of course not. But doesn't this seem at all odd to you? Who knows what sort of trap he has lying in wait."

"He planned this all along," I argued. "He knew we'd figure it out…And he's not the only one with magic."

Killian's gaze pierced through to my thoughts almost as efficiently as his words flowing in my mind. _"While I have enormous faith in your abilities, love, neither of us is as practiced as the Dark One."_

I appreciated his concern, I truly did, but enough was enough. Placing my fingers over the ring-laden hand still clutching my arm, I returned his thoughts. _"I'm not going to let this go; I'm tired of looking over my shoulder for the next threat."_

Killian continued to hold my stare. After a long pause, I felt whatever had been blocking his side of the bond crumble, his feelings rushing into my psyche like a torrent of raging water. I gasped and stumbled back a step. My heart trembled in answer to the overwhelming ache calling from his. "I can't lose you, Emma," he confessed in a whisper, his breath forming a soft mist which sailed into the dark night. "I'm not afraid to face him, not in the way you may think. I would die for you…but to do so would take your life, too. I feel _paralyzed_."

"You won't lose me," I answered, threading my fingers with his and pulling his arm down until our clasped hands hung between us. Keeping our eyes locked I nodded once as a silent vow. In my mind, I showed him the moment I'd subconsciously known there were no more tomorrows for me without him. I concentrated on that feeling of rightness I'd experienced just before I kissed his still lips and connected my magic, my heart and my soul to his. It had taken me awhile to get past my stubbornness and admit to myself, let alone him, what I'd already known that day in Neverland. Life or death, Killian was my forever. "We've come too far for either of us to be lost again. We're doing this…together," I promised.

"Aye," he affirmed. "Together."

I stepped forward, but he pulled me back again. "Wha-" I started to question him but was abruptly cut off by the press of his warm lips against my own, almost bruising in their conquest. His fingers threaded into my hair, cradling my head both gently and possessively. Pure devotion…no, _reverence_ flooded into me. I wrapped my arms around him as tightly as I could, holding him the way he completely held my heart. His body trembled and I pushed even further against his lips. The beating of my heart thundered in my ears, or maybe it was his. His teeth nipped at my mouth as his left arm pressed against my back, his hook hard against my spine. It was everything, yet not enough. I could feel him molded snugly to my body, but I wanted him, _needed_ him closer. How had I ever survived without feeling this way?

In the end, it was difficult to say who broke away first. Killian rested his forehead against my brow, his breath a gentle caress against my lips. "I love you, Emma."

"I love you, too, Killian," I answered without hesitance.

"Isn't this a touching scene," a voice interrupted. Killian and I startled before shifting to face our intruder. My eyes widened as I took in the figure before us.

"The savior and the pirate." Gold, no, _Rumpelstiltskin's_ head tilted at an odd angle as his hand made an exaggerated flourish in the air. "What a lovely title that would make for a children's book, don't you think?"

Lifting the light to get a better look, I was shocked at the sudden and altered appearance of our suspect. The aging businessman characterized by his severe expression and dress had nearly been stripped away, replaced by some warped cross between a reptile and what I could only imagine as some type of nymph or imp. While his usual suit remained, his skin was tinted gold-green and held the texture of dry clay. Rotten teeth grinned maniacally, accompanied by a trilling laugh that was both gleeful and sinister. "Gold," I exclaimed. "What the hell happened to you?"

A pair of unearthly eyes the color of moss and mud swept over me. "Well, Miss Swan," he paused, darting his gaze to Killian then back to me, "It appears I've reverted back to my natural form."

"Crocodile," Killian growled. A tremor of edginess and loathing seeped across our bond as his mind latched onto the memories of his earlier encounters with this version of Gold: a dark alleyway filled with the clanging of swordplay; the crushing agony of lost love; white-hot pain flaring from his wrist. While it was true that Killian and Gold had set aside their differences for the sake of our Neverland mission, the impact of seeing Rumpelstiltskin in all his dark glory after so many years was wreaking havoc on Killian's consciousness.

"_Stay with me,"_ I mentally shouted at him, pulling his focus to the here and now. He blinked quickly, willing away an image of a woman gasping in his arms, her dark hair lightening into golden threads, her sea-blue eyes turning green. _"I'm here. You won't let anything happen to me…and I won't let anything happen to you."_

He met my eyes for a brief moment before we both gave our full attention back to Gold.

"I see the soul bond is completely intact now," Gold waggled his eyebrows comically. "Naughty, naughty."

My eyes narrowed. "What do you want?"

Gold clucked his tongue. "You always were one to cut to the chase. Never did appreciate the art of pleasant conversation."

"Some of us don't have the time to waste," I retorted.

"And others have stayed long past their welcome," Gold countered. I felt the bile churn in my stomach as he let his gaze linger pointedly on Killian. "In fact, I think it's time I did something about that." With a snap of his fingers, Killian was gone. Vanished.

I sucked in air as my heart twisted in my chest, overcome with panic and shock. I swung the flashlight wildly, searching for any trace of him. Meeting Gold's amused grin I cried, "What have you done?"

"_Emma!"_ Killian's thoughts shouted.

"_Killian?"_ I called back. _"Where are you?"_

"_By the well. Are you alright, love?"_

Ignoring Gold's gleeful laughter, I rushed into the clearing, sighing in relief as my eyes swept over Killian. He appeared to be unharmed, though his back was pinned to a nearby tree.

"Look familiar?" Gold asked, sauntering into the clearing. With a quick movement of his hand, a magical fire burst into flame, hovering over the open well. The clearing flooded with light, making Gold's sinister appearance all the more prominent. "All that's missing are those pesky shadows. Bae was a bit vague with the details. Was it one shadow or two that ripped at the pirate's soul?"

My eyes swung sharply to Gold. "Let. Him. Go," I demanded. My palm grew warm as white magic crept along my skin.

"He should have died that day," Gold said, his face stripped of all its merriment. "He should have died years ago, to be exact." Facing Killian he continued, "I knew you'd be of some use to me one day."

"What in the blazes are you talking about?" Killian demanded.

"Fate can be so interesting at times…to think the solution to my problem lay within the very man who played a hand in setting me on this course," Gold paused, nodding once at Killian's hook. "No offense."

"_He's insane,"_ Killian thought as he struggled against his invisible bonds. His frustration coiled with his renewed wrath.

Feeding off his energy, the magic forming in my hand took shape. I held the sphere aloft and called, "Gold. Let him go. I won't say it again."

Disregarding my threat, Gold continued his apparent soliloquy. "It seems my little jaunt to Neverland had a detrimental effect on all my hard won control over my dark magic."

Killian laughed; a harsh, disgusted sound. "Control? Isn't that what this was all about," he gestured at Gold's appearance. "You were so desperate to control your own cowardice that you traded your soul for it rather than fight for it."

Gold's reptilian eyes flashed to me before he faced Killian again, a pleased smirk tilting his mouth. "And just what would you trade your soul for…_pirate_?"

Warning bells reverberated from my head to my toes. Something in Gold's tone, in the particular phrasing of his words tipped me off that Killian and I were in far greater trouble than we realized. Raising my hand, I prepared to release my magic, my heart pounding frantically against my rib cage.

"Uh uh uh…" Gold trilled. With another wave of his hand, the white sphere I held fizzled into nothing. He surveyed me curiously. "And what exactly did you hope to accomplish with that?"

"_Emma…be careful, love,"_ Killian pleaded. Beyond Gold's shoulder, I noted the lines of stress marring Killian's beauty. His eyes were enormous, though the set of his mouth spoke to his determination to somehow save us. Through our bond, his feelings were a complexity of anger, fear, and ragged hope.

Starring at Gold, I repeated. "What do you want from us?"

Gold's expression shifted again; the weight of his existence shone through his eyes. Underneath his beastly visage I recognized him for what he was: an exhausted man seeking some sort of respite, no matter the cost. "Legend foretold of a magic so powerful it can cure anything…even the darkest curse."

My blood chilled as the puzzle pieces started fitting themselves together. I'd already heard about that legend. I swallowed thickly. "The soul bond," I acknowledged. "So what?"

Gold shook his head. "Don't play dumb with me now, Miss Swan. As you said, not all of us have time to spare."

Wisps of conversations from the past week flitted across my consciousness: Regina revealing Gold's early interest in the bond; Belle forlornly admitting that he'd kept his distance since Neverland because he was afraid of his magic; Smee admitting whatever Gold was doing was related to Belle. And then there was Gold himself. From the moment he helped me save Killian, he'd been far more invested in the success of our bond than warranted. I shuddered as I remembered our encounter after Killian and I had consummated our relationship.

"Belle. This is about Belle. You think our bond will cure you of the Dark One's curse," I stated.

"See? Beauty and brains. I knew you had it in you," Gold exclaimed as he twisted his hand in that strange gesture once more.

I looked between him and Killian again. "So what was all of this? The snooping around places we'd been, trying to take his heart, erasing Smee's memory, luring us here…why not just confront us from the beginning?"

Gold cocked his head to the side as if processing what I'd said. "Snooping?" He tasted the word. "I'm not sure what you mean by that, but the rest of it was a test of sorts. A partial bond wouldn't have been good enough."

"Enough for what?" I spat, my patience treading beyond thin. "It's not like we're talking about a potions ingredient here."

"That's where you're wrong, Dearie," Gold replied. An icy shiver raced down my spine, worsening as Gold's lips parted in another smile. "True Love's Bond is a magical thread laced between its two partners. During moments of extreme duress, it becomes physically tangible, acting as a tether with which one partner might save the other."

Killian's thoughts erupted with the memory of his near run in with Whale's car. Half of Storybrooke had witnessed that event, not to mention the silvery cord connected to both of our chests. I faced Gold calmly despite my racing pulse. "What makes you think we'll just hand it over?"

"You _are_ the savior, Miss Swan. Here's your chance to save me," Gold smiled.

"And what's in it for us?" I challenged, forcing myself to maintain eye-contact with the mad man before me.

"_Emma, no…"_ Killian lamented.

"As I risked my sanity to help you in Neverland, it's only fair that you return the favor."

I scoffed. "If you take our bond we'll both die."

"Hmmm, yes…well…there is that. Though, maybe not."

"What do you mean? You told me if one of us dies, so does the other," I accused, trying and failing to conceal the rising panic in my voice. I could feel my power roiling in my chest again, reacting to the threat, though I wasn't sure how it could help.

"Haven't you learned yet, Dearie that with magic there is almost always a loophole?" Gold grinned again, exceedingly pleased with himself. In that moment, he resembled the cartoon crocodile of Peter Pan almost too perfectly.

"_It's a trick. Use your magic. Distract him and run,"_ Killian directed.

"_I'm not leaving you,"_ I asserted. _"Never again."_

As if reading my thoughts Gold teased, "Tick tock…shall we do this the easy way or the hard way?"

I glared at him, remembering the last time he'd pressured me with that infamous phrase. Then, he'd led me under the guise of wanting to help save Killian's life. Now, he demanded I hand it over to him on a metaphorical platter.

"No," I said, my voice quiet but firm.

"If you dare touch even a single strand of her hair…" Killian threatened, jerking his body roughly in a futile attempt to break free.

Gold's eyes darkened even as his grin widened. "Perhaps I haven't made myself clear." With an all-too-easy flick of his wrist, he commanded a nearby branch to arc toward Killian's chest, the end of it pointed like a spear.

"Killian!" I cried. Fear lanced through our bond, both mine and his. I surged forward, but my feet felt glued to the ground. I choked on my breath, my head pounding in denial. Then, suddenly, the branch stopped; the sharp end pressed into the leather of Killian's coat. His breath expelled as his shoulders sagged.

Willing the branch to retreat though keeping it aimed at Killian's heart, Gold turned to me and said, "What will it be, Dearie?"

.

.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: And breathe…lol

Thank you for your continued support. Shout-out to **Yettoseeyoufail** for being such an outstanding sounding board. I can't believe it's almost over :*(

Reviews = Writing Fuel


	21. Full of Light

A gentle reminder as you proceed that this is a work of fiction, and as such, I feel entitled to take liberties with certain storylines. I 'think' you'll be pleasantly surprised…this has been the plan from the very beginning.

The final chapter…

**Chapter 21**

**Full of Light**

Time is a funny thing. While pleasant things like perfect bites of food or soulful conversations pass so quickly that even in the moment your fingers grasp at them like wisps of a dying flame, dread burrows so bone deep that each prolonged second stretches into tortuous eternity. But even dread can be catalogued by intensity. There's the innocent variety – that of a child mourning the end of summer – and then there's the kind that leaves a lasting impression…that somehow lessens the blow of whatever tragic event accompanies it because the worrying gouges a trench for the impending tidal wave of emotion. I'd spent most of my life lost somewhere between the varying degrees of dread, carefully balanced with enough cynicism to numb any particularly strong emotion. Until Killian. Until I understood the catalyst for the worst kind of dread: _loss_.

I'd felt alone almost my entire life; I'd rarely let anyone close enough to worry over their absence. But _they_ knew. Killian and Rumpelstiltskin had both felt the vicious sting of losing someone who'd once been an integral piece of their lives. And they'd both suffered with that loss far longer than any soul should. I was an amateur compared to them, and already the descending dread scratched over my skin with its icy talons, scrambling my thoughts when I desperately needed to focus.

The dagger-like branch swayed in my vision. _It is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all._ The name of the person who'd said that escaped me, but the sentiment pissed me off more than ever. I'd finally…_finally_ let someone past my walls; let someone crawl into that secret part of me I'd guarded more tightly than any personal wealth. Losing him now was just…_ridiculous!_ This couldn't be the end. I was not a compromising woman, but I was sure as hell willing to learn if it meant saving what I'd only recently come to value so dearly. I met Killian's eyes resolutely, even as I spoke to Gold. "What will happen to him if I do this?"

"Emma, no!" Killian exclaimed. His thoughts were _red_. No other description matched the chaos and fear spiking across our link. His _and_ mine.

"I assume he'll just go back to being your persistent suitor, minus all those pesky side effects of the bond," Gold replied. A hint of triumph shadowed his voice even as he let the branch slip forward an inch. "Now, I suggest you stop stalling."

My voice was quieter than I would've liked when I responded; "You know what they say about assuming. And that's a chance I'm not willing to take."

Gold shifted his stance, tilting his shoulders so he faced me more than Killian. "Where's your faith, Savior? Surely the product of true love believes in the power of her own?"

"You're bluffing," Killian shouted. "If you kill me you'll never get what you want."

Gold chuckled, but kept his attention on me. "The pleasure alone would be worth it."

His retort seemed almost too practiced, like a scripted line in an expected role. What could he possibly gain from this sudden game? Why even bother giving me a choice when all three of us were well aware the Dark One could take what he wanted when he wanted it? It just didn't make any sense. Why continue to drag this out? "You told me if one of us dies, so does the other," I insisted. "Why would you lie?"

Gold's face scrunched into a momentary knot of annoyance. His hand twisted in the air once more, causing the branch to jerk in place. "You're bonded by magic. Logic follows that it will be a death of magic, not of life."

_He still wasn't sure…_I was willing to lose my magic for Killian, but I was _not_ willing to lose Killian on some theory. Maybe magic was the only price we'd pay, and maybe not; maybe the loss of a soul bond meant the soul itself. That slow drip of dread continued feeding through my veins, numbing my instincts. This connection – from the very beginning – had been a test of faith. Even the most powerful sorcerer in existence was working under the constraint of maybes and chance; what hope was there for us commoners?

"_You are hardly common, love. Don't lose faith…This is _not_ the end for us…"_ Killian's voice sounded soft and steady. He'd always been that way. Like the one-legged steadfast tin soldier, my one-handed pirate had never faltered in his love and faith for me: his paper dancer.* My eyes flickered to the magical fire burning above the well. The dancer and the soldier had both perished in flames at the end of their tale, finding death to be the only host willing to embrace the pair of them. Were we doomed to the same fate? Was Gold wrong when he first bound us, or was he wrong now?

I drew in a long, deep breath, willing the oxygen to fuel my stiffened limbs and clear my mind. My eyes settled on Gold, studying the faint lines of distress around his feral eyes. As if sensing my scrutiny, his face hardened, but it was too late. I'd already seen it. He wasn't bluffing, as Killian had suggested, but he _was _uncertain, anxious even. Desperation drives us to do things we swore never to do again. "You don't want to do this," I began.

Gold's mouth lifted at the corner. "I have no wish to see you dead, Miss Swan," he stated plainly. "I've told you as much before. But if it's a choice between us, well…" He let his sentence hang unfinished then seemed to gather whatever shroud of darkness he'd been warring with for centuries. On a normal person it would've read as renewed determination; on the Dark One it was a gathering force.

"You don't _have_ to do this," I rephrased, my hand inching backwards toward the gun tucked in the waistband of my pants. I'd tried my magic and it had failed; time to fall back into familiar territory.

"I'm afraid I'll have to disagree with you there, Dearie. Much as I've tried, you're not the only one who's been fighting a losing battle with your true nature."

My fingertips brushed against cool metal, though I knew I wouldn't be able to draw the weapon while Gold looked on. _"Killian, I need a distraction,"_ I called in my thoughts.

Seeing the mental image of my plan, he shook his head sharply. _"Use your magic, Swan."_

"_Tried that, remember? He's too strong,"_ I argued.

Perhaps sensing he'd lost a portion of his captive audience, Gold tilted his head to the side, looking at me with peculiar interest. Then, turning slowly, he eyed Killian. "Plotting, are we?"

It was all the distraction I needed. The gun was in my hands and pointed at Gold's back before he'd even finished speaking. "Let him go," I commanded, my voice low and level.

"I see you've made your choice, Sheriff," Gold remarked. He glanced at me over his shoulder, noting the weapon with only a passing interest. A flash of regret glossed across his eyes, or maybe that was just my imagination.

As he raised his hand toward the branch, my finger began squeezing the trigger. "Don't!" I yelled. My pulse pounded through my body, joined in part by Killian's own distress. But rather than release the makeshift spear, Gold's magic turned on the gun, ripping it from my grasp with invisible fingers and tossing it away.

The jolt of dark power felt like stinging needles against my hand. I yanked it protectively to my chest as I cried out, "You can't do this!" Panic rose with the fluttering of wings, beating against my chest, frantic and bitter. After everything, was this really how it would end? Gold merely shirked his shoulder and raised his hand toward Killian again.

"You haven't bested us yet!" Killian growled. _"Together, Emma. Together,"_ his thoughts insisted. Together. That single word had become our mantra. A soft haze of white light seeped from underneath his skin, fighting against the bonds keeping him within Gold's spell. Killian's magic called to my own, but we'd only ever succeeded in fusing our power when we touched. I searched for my own spark of magic, willing it to rise and meet his. The deadly branch gusted sideways from some hidden wind, the crack of fracturing wood like a clap of thunder to my ears. Killian's shoulders fell forward as he freed his arms from Gold's hold. A tentative sense of joy swelled in his thoughts. _"Just a little more, love,"_ he urged.

Any momentary reprieve we might have felt was crushed as Gold suddenly laughed, eyeing his failed weapon with misplaced glee. "The bond's even stronger than I thought. Such a shame, really…I would've been most interested to see what else you two can do. But since you're still not willing to cooperate…" His words faded as he once again focused on his prisoner. With a twist of his wrist, Killian's body arched back against the tree, his hand ripping free from the spell to clutch his throat.

Killian's mouth gaped open as his eyes rolled back. I could feel his chest constricting as his airway collapsed beneath the weight of Gold's magic. Black spots danced in my vision as my own lungs scrambled for breath.

The sudden crash of hasty footsteps through the forest underbrush broke Gold's concentration. Killian slumped to the ground, gasping for breath just as Belle appeared in the clearing. "Rumpel!" she cried. "Stop! This isn't you anymore. You're past all this!"

"Stay back!" Gold shouted, raising an arm as if to shield his altered face.

Belle froze, her luminous eyes capturing the scene with painful clarity. A second body stepped around her slowly but with confident steps. "Papa," Neal spoke calmly. "Let them go."

"Bae," Gold exhaled, some of the vigor draining from his stance as he locked eyes with his son.

"This isn't right. You have to let them go," Neal reiterated.

Gold held his son's gaze for a long moment then nodded sadly to Belle. "It's too late…I have to do this."

With a wave of Gold's hand, Killian flew from the tree toward the blazing fire over the well. Air invaded my lungs as I gasped, terror so thick in my throat that I couldn't even scream. I felt Killian's sudden surprise, his momentary confusion and then a flash of hopelessness as his skin registered the heat of the approaching flames. My love and raw need for him surged through my body and I reacted instinctively, reaching for him with tendrils of magic so pure that the clearing ignited in a wash of brilliant white light. Dimly, I registered the cry of several voices, but all my psyche could grasp onto was Killian. As before, cords of silver shot from my heart toward his, not stopping until his weight felt like a welcome anchor on my soul.

I wrapped my fingers around the manifestation of our bond, staring at the deceptively strong threads with a combination of awe and fear. I could feel the pulse of Killian's life force thrumming beneath my fingers, but his presence in my mind was distant and muffled. Raising my eyes slowly, I struggled to make sense of the images before me. The bond stretched tightly in a shimmering arc between me and Killian, holding him in a strange sort of suspension above the magical fire. And there – caught in the middle and pierced straight through the heart – was Gold.

A sickly sort of black ooze leeched from Gold's body onto the bond, coating the strands and spreading in both directions. _"Emma,"_ Killian's voice called in my mind, though it sounded like he was underwater. I blinked dully, seeing him but not feeling him. My steps felt sluggish and clumsy as I slowly staggered toward him. _"Emma,"_ he spoke again, even more distorted than before. The darkness slithered further along the cords like the threat of deep waters. I could almost sense the cool wash of death sliding over my skin and sinking into my soul.

"_Killian," _my thoughts whimpered. _"What's going on?" _My knees buckled and I collapsed to the hard earth. Gasping, I placed a hand over my chest as darkness pressed further against my vision. A persistent tug at my heart drew my gaze across the clearing, pausing on a shadowy figure wriggling in the air like a fish on a hook. "It's Gold," I cried out, frantically wrapping my hand around the cords at my heart and pushing against the encroaching magic. "Dark m-"

A sudden, piercing agony tore a scream from my throat. Hundreds of nameless faces, suffering and anguished flashed behind my eyes. Evil, thick as toxic sludge, burned through my veins like acid. The tugging of the bond sharpened as I curled into a ball, my palms pressed tightly over my ears. "Oh God," I gasped. Centuries of the Dark One's deeds assaulted my senses all at once, raking over each synapse and shredding my sanity.

"_Emma,"_ Killian's voice cut through the turmoil. My thoughts reached for him, tried to cling to him, but in my confusion he remained elusive. I was surrounded by misery yet lost in the darkness. _"Come to me,"_ he demanded, his tone gritty and determined. _"You have to fight! You _have_ to!"_

A tremor of hope cut through the shroud of the Dark One's poison. Like a small stone cast into a pond, the ripple distorted the surface of memories and allowed me to gather a small reprieve from the onslaught of suffering. I pushed myself to my hands and feet, crawling toward Killian. Every movement was a struggle, sapping my strength even as my pulse beat faster. I placed my hand over my heart, willing it to slow down, only to feel the soft pulse of magic flowing along the cords which still connected me to Killian and Gold coating my fingertips. Expecting the oily black of dark power, my breath caught painfully in my chest at the steady stream of white magic leaking out of me and seemingly taking our bond with it. I watched the strands thin and darken with a strange sort of resignation, feeling my warmth drain like the last bit of bathwater in a tub. Where fire had sparked deep within my chest, a numbing cold took hold. "He's stealing my magic," I choked out through heavy breaths.

Killian's power flared, repairing the pearlescent shimmer of the bond with every inch, but the regeneration slowed before reaching me. _"Emma, look at me!" _He ordered. "_Together,"_ he urged again. _"I can't do this without you."_

Killian. Somewhere deep inside, beneath the protective barrier I'd constructed around my heart and nestled within the folds of dreams I'd once wrapped around myself as a child before cynicism became my trusted ally, lay the core of my heart. _He _was there. Beyond the bond, beyond the magic…embedded in my soul. For the first time, I knew I truly was the child of Prince Charming and Snow White; the magic and fantasy was ingrained within me whether I embraced it or not, and it wasn't something I could ever get rid of. I couldn't deny it, nor could I lose it. Love only strengthened it. I'd found love…_true_ love…and I was never letting go. "You don't have to," I answered Killian out loud then staggered to my feet, pressing my hand over my heart and willing whatever power I had left to stay with me. Seeing the ashen faces of Belle and Neal, I nodded once toward Gold. "You should go to him; he's going to need you."

I scarcely noticed Belle's movement, so concerned was I in reaching Killian. Each step felt mired in the weight of past regret as if I were truly shedding some other life. At last, I reached the fire, placing my palms in front of me and letting some of my magic extinguish the flames. Then, reaching up, I clutched Killian's hand and tugged. Hard. The sagging cords of our bond snapped to life with almost painful accuracy, yanking Killian's body into mine and sending us both crashing to the ground for the second time in a single day.

His face was suddenly only inches from mine; those startling eyes of his brimming with emotions too big to speak of, but exactly what my soul was craving. "Seems this is becoming a familiar position of ours, love," he joked, then smoothed his fingertips over my cheek. I drank him in, letting his own brand of magic heal the frayed edges of mine. _"Mine,"_ his thoughts whispered.

The chocked sob of Belle broke our focus. "Rumpel!" she called desperately, shaking Gold's chest. "Please come back to me!"

Killian and I pushed to our feet, approaching the couple cautiously. The bond was no longer visible, nor had it left any noticeable mark on Gold, but he'd obviously been affected by it. The harshness of his features softened into his human mask, leaving behind the aging businessman. "Is he dead?" Killian asked with perhaps a touch of hopefulness, not that I blamed him. Not anymore.

Shaking her head, Belle responded; "He's breathing." She clutched his hand then looked to me. "What happened?"

Neal crouched beside her, running his palm over Gold's chest, likely seeking some sort of physical proof of what he'd just witnessed. "The bond?" he questioned.

I honestly didn't know how to respond. Obviously the bond had done something to Gold, but what exactly? I could still feel echoes of his dark magic trailing across my skin as if seeking a way in, though the bond of white magic pulsing between me and Killian was regaining strength by the second.

With a sudden gasp, Gold's eyes flashed open. "Belle?" he spoke softly, blinking the last remnants of his personal nightmare away. He reached a hesitant hand toward her then paused, staring at the smooth, pale skin. "It's gone."

Belle draped herself over him, taking his head in her palms. She waited for him to look at her before smiling. "Thank goodness."

Gold stared back blankly for a long moment. Then, returning her smile, he pulled her into his arms and inhaled sharply.

A slow burn of wary relief wound itself around my heart. The sensation grew stronger as my own feelings joined in, relieved to find Killian's presence filling my soul once more. I felt, rather than saw him step behind me, my attention still fixed on the couple before us. _"What shall we do about him now, Swan?" _His hand wrapped around the curve of my waist. _"I doubt the lady librarian will acquiesce to surrendering him to us."_

"Nor should she," replied an unfamiliar voice. Killian's grip tightened as a new body stepped into view.

My eyes widened as they recognized who'd spoken. "Merlin?"

"You!" Gold exclaimed at the same moment, rising swiftly to his feet. Only, where I was genuinely surprised, he sounded furious, and not a little bit unsettled.

The old man swept into the clearing with an unexpected air of playfulness. Swapping a humble priest's robe for a long navy cloak and a tall staff, he now looked more or less like what I'd expected a real-life version of the cartoon to be.

"Simply marvelous," he commented, settling his ancient gaze first on Killian then on me. "It worked!"

"What in the blazes are you getting on about?" Killian spoke roughly, stepping to my side and angling his body so as to shield me.

"The cure!" Merlin replied with delight. He turned on his heel, cloak billowing about, and pointed his walking stick at Gold. "It's finally over."

Looking around the clearing, I noted the collection of confused expressions decorating our strange group.

"The Dark One's curse," Merlin began. "…it was never meant to leave its original host. Through the years, it's become twisted and vile, furious at being parted from the only one capable of containing its tenacious nature without succumbing to its madness. But even then, the darkness took its toll." He sidled closer to Gold, assessing the man from head to toe with a shrewd eye. "Rumpelstiltskin…yes…you fared remarkably well. Never before has one contained such dark magic for so long a period of time and retained his sanity. The dark power must've found something _truly_ inspiring within you." Merlin's thin lips pulled back in sardonic grin.

Gold's expression darkened. "And who exactly is this _original host_?"

"Me." A petite young woman stepped out from the trees. She was barefoot and clad in a similar robe as Merlin, though an abundance of rich, mahogany hair cascading over her shoulders hid the top half of her outfit. At first glance, she seemed no more than twenty, but that same ageless quality Merlin possessed radiated from her shocking green eyes.

"And you are?" asked Neal as he inched slightly away from Gold. I glanced at him quickly, curious at the odd note in his voice.

"Morganna," the woman responded, those unearthly eyes sweeping over all of us.

"The witch!" Belle exclaimed with excitement. "I've read all about you."

Morganna's lips twisted wryly. "Yes, well…I'd be careful believing what you read."

"_Or see, eh love?"_ Killian mentally commented. I frowned at him. _So_ not the time.

Before anyone could respond, two more visitors appeared from the woods…two fairies to be exact. Tinker Bell was accompanied by none other than the Blue Fairy herself, looking just as smug as always.

"I'd be careful hosting such ungenerous thoughts, Savior; uncontained dark magic seeks any excuse to form a new bond," Merlin commented, turning his wizened gaze on me.

"_You can read thoughts?"_ my mental voice shrieked.

"_Only those of my magical kin,"_ he responded, and then winked.

I swallowed down a sudden knot of unease. That was one branch of my family tree I could've happily lived without discovering, though I did wonder how much Mary Margaret, or for that matter David, knew about their ancestry.

"_All right, love?"_ Killian's thoughts soothed over my mind.

I nodded stiffly then gestured toward Gold, letting my sheriff's instincts cover any lingering discomfort. "So we're expected to believe this was all some sort of master plan?"

Merlin leaned on his staff, amusement twinkling beneath his bushy brows. "Yes and no," he answered vaguely.

I was beginning to realize this was his method of evasion. Unfortunately for him, I was well versed in all tactics of denial and avoidance. _Maybe you inherited that from him, too? _Yeah…not going there. I cleared my throat. "And Hook's heart? Smee?" I questioned. "You seemed conveniently ignorant when we spoke this morning." My gaze swept over Blue, assessing her expression for any clues. That part of me which could detect untruths was blaring in warning, convinced that the fairy nun was involved.

"As I recall, you merely wished to know the location of Mother Superior." Merlin motioned toward Blue, "and here she is."

Tinker Bell crossed to where Killian and I stood. "I found them at the police station talking to Smee."

At the mention of Smee's name, both Killian and Gold tensed, shifting their stances and gripping imaginary weapons.

Merlin leaned once more on his staff, eyeing both men with amusement. "Quite the memory spell you invoked on that one," he addressed Gold. "Interesting bit of a challenge to reverse it. The poor fellow was frightened nearly to his grave when I stripped it from him. Incidentally, I returned his heart. I expect you're wondering why he suddenly ceased his obedience to you."

"What is he talking about?" Neal turned on Gold. "What have you done now?"

Gold's face was uncharacteristically flustered. His eyes vacillated between his empty hands, his son, and Merlin. "He was acting erratic. He needed controlling. I couldn't have him coming after Belle again, so I made him forget." he paused and looked at Belle, taking her hand in one of his. Then, meeting Merlin's stare he added: "But I never took his heart. Even after he failed to take his," he pointed at Killian.

"You expect us to believe that?" I charged.

"He's being quite truthful, as you can probably determine," Merlin commented. _"Our line has always been talented in detecting deception,"_ his thoughts whispered.

"It was Merlin. And Blue," Tinker Bell stated hastily. I could almost see the outline of her missing wings lifting her to her toes, so fidgety and anxious was she acting.

"_What in the blazes are they talking about?"_ Killian's thoughts radiated across our link, whether intentional or not, I couldn't be sure; I definitely wasn't alone in my confusion.

Blue placed a hand on Merlin's back, a silent conversation passing between them before she approached our small gathering. "You must understand; we meant no harm to anyone. But given the chance to save Morganna, difficult decisions needed to be made." She nodded once to Killian. "I must ask your forgiveness, Captain, for the unfortunate role you've had to play. May it bring you some peace to know your heart is quite well protected."

"It was you?" Belle cried, her wide eyes pinned accusatorily on the fairy. "You set them all up?"

"I prefer to think of it as helping the inevitable along its path," Merlin interceded. "Though, we can't claim responsibility for _all_ the troubles which have befallen you." He looked seriously at Gold.

Gold met the other man's stare, but didn't reply. His one hand remained clutched in Belle's while the other flexed uselessly by his side. Mirroring my observation, Killian remarked; _"Why isn't the crocodile biting back?"_

I shrugged slightly, not willing to make assumptions just yet. If nothing else, I had learned not to underestimate Gold's conniving nature.

"Your long-running animosity toward one another was the perfect foil." Merlin gestured between Gold and Killian. "You've been so fixated on your mutual hate that you blinded yourself to the bigger picture. That's really a fault you should work on, if you ask me."

"I didn't bloody well ask you," Killian grumbled.

"You still haven't answered my questions; who is responsible for the attack on Hook?" I asked pointedly.

"We all are," Blue gestured to herself, Merlin and Gold. "…though 'attack' is a rather harsh word. I was interrupted in my attempt to assess your bond by Mr. Smee, who then tried to abduct you once I fled." She met Killian's eyes unflinchingly, still the very picture of confidence and authority whether it was warranted or not. "I suspect the charm I placed on you wore off as he was moving you, hence the injury to your head."

"So Rumpel didn't try to take Hook's heart?" Belle questioned, perhaps a bit hopefully.

Gold turned to slowly meet her eyes. His voice was quiet as he admitted, "I would have. I needed proof of the soul bond. When I heard an attempt had been made, I assumed the rat had acted on his own accord before turning tail and running." Directing his attention on Merlin he continued; "Your handiwork, I assume?"

"We couldn't have the fellow telling all and sundry about what he'd seen. A brief possession of his heart was enough insurance; your additional memory potion certainly finished the job." Merlin moved to stand with Morganna, placing a gnarled hand on her sleeve. Devotion and love poured from his features as he gazed upon the young woman. His focus stayed on her even as he kept speaking to all of us. "I am sorry for any pain or inconvenience this caused all of you, but it couldn't be helped. The curse had to be eliminated. This was simply the first time that the cure and the curse existed in the same time and place. We've been searching, waiting for this moment for more than a millennium."

"We're not giving you the bond," I stated pointedly. No matter their intentions, the fact remained that their ultimate goal had also involved using the magic Killian and I had created. I was no more willing to trade it for them than I'd been for Gold.

Blue smiled, for once showing a genuine kindness rather than her usual glower. "You've already done more than we could've hoped for. Your bond can never be taken. Not while at least one of you lives."

"But Gold said if one of us dies, so does the other," I spoke cautiously, squashing down the glimmer of hope trying to wrestle itself free from the stronghold of unease.

Merlin murmured something to Morganna before turning toward us. "The soul bond is made from true love. _Eternal_ love. Even when one soul passes from this world, the love does not die; it waits to be reunited on the other side. No earthly force can break the link formed between your two souls."

"But how-" I began only to be cut off by Morganna.

"He is the father of magic. He created both the light and the dark. One cannot exist in the presence of the other. Your bond is the purest manifestation of light magic, and I…the dark. In sharing your bond with Rumpelstiltskin, you've finally freed the dark magic from its false host. And now, it must return to where it belongs."

Spreading her arms wide, Morganna tilted her face toward the crescent moon and closed her eyes. With her palms facing upwards, she motioned her hands from side to side and turned in a slow circle. Ribbons of dark energy appeared in the air, swirling around her and then absorbing into her until her hair darkened to the color of midnight. When her eyes opened, a tiny flame burned within the emerald irises. She was magnificent and frightening all at once. Against my control, the familiar burn of my magic flared to life in my palms, seeking to defend against the presence of its adversary. Seeing it, Morganna smiled. "There's no need for concern. To me, the dark magic is as familiar and dear as your own bond. It does not control me or taint me; it is natural…necessary."

Merlin and Blue approached Morganna with reverent steps, each embracing her in turn. From her pocket, Blue pulled out a black, twisted stick and passed it to Morganna. At the touch of her hand, the stick thrummed with power. Not a stick then, a wand.

"The black fairy," Tink breathed out beside me. "I can't believe it."

"Believe it, Sister Green," said Morganna. "But fear not. I am no more evil than any of you."

"_I suppose someone has to be the wielder of darkness,"_ Killian mused. _"But do we trust her, love?"_

"_About as far as we can throw her," _I commented, eyeing the new 'Dark One' with blatant suspicion. "What are your plans now?" I asked her.

Morganna slipped the wand beneath the sleeve of her cloak then assessed each of us in turn. "Much as they've always been, I suppose." She smiled at Merlin. "We are travelers, seeking the knowledge of the realms."

"And what of him?" Killian motioned to Gold, still appearing shell-shocked and holding on to Belle. "Are we really going to allow him to walk away without any repercussions?" he asked, disbelief clear in his tone.

Merlin looked Gold up and down once more. "Punish him if you will, though I suspect he's already suffering more than your human law could enforce. He's lost his magic. He is, once more, a mortal man filled with insecurities and a sense of powerlessness."

"And love," Belle interjected. "You forgot love."

The old wizard's lips lifted in a smile. "Ah…well…perhaps not so powerless after all." He offered his arm to Morganna. "Shall we?"

She wrapped her innocuous, delicate fingers around his arm, nodded to Blue and then…they were gone. No sound, no spell, just gone.

"Wait!" Neal shouted, but it was too late. A strange silence fell upon us accompanied by a light brush of air, like the forced exhalation after holding your breath in panic. "Where did they go?" Neal questioned to no one and everyone.

"Who knows?" Blue commented, drawing our attention. She held her hands before her in supplication. "No true harm has been done. In point of fact, you've succeeded in ridding our time from a great evil," her pointed glare fell on Gold. "Worry not over those things that are best left in the hands of others." She gathered her coat tighter around her frame and marched from the clearing.

Tink turned to me, taking mine and Killian's hands in her own. A brilliant smile lit her face as a shimmer of white magic floated above her head. "It's so beautiful," she sighed. Blinking rapidly, she clasped our hands together and stepped away. "Be happy." I watched – a bit dumbfounded – as she ushered Neal, Gold and Belle toward the tree line. "I'll sort them out," she called to me. "See you tomorrow?" Without waiting for a reply, she stepped into the woods.

The abrupt stillness amplified my spinning thoughts. _What the hell just happened? _

Killian's fingers tightened around my own just as his hook smoothed a strand of fly-away hair away from my face. I flinched in surprise, still too stunned to process that we were the only two left in the clearing. "It's just me, love," he spoke into the night.

I lifted my hands to his chest, smoothing them over the worn leather of his coat and pressing to feel the steady beat of his heart. Taking several long breaths, I met the seriousness of his eyes. "You're alright." It wasn't a question, more a statement meant to convince myself.

"Aye. We've won again…I think?" He lifted our clasped hands to press a tender kiss to my knuckles. "Likely there's more for us to sort out." His thoughts drifted to the recent memory of seeing Rumpelstiltskin renewed.

"What are you going to do to Gold?"

Killian smirked. "I can think of a few things…now that he's just as mortal as I."

I glared half-heartedly at him. "But for now…" my voice trailed off, fatigue and waning adrenalin muddling what I wanted to say.

"For now all's well that ends well," Killian supplied.

I quirked my brow at his phrase. "When did you become so optimistic?"

He grinned. "I've always been cursed of a hopeful disposition. Stubborn you might say."

I made a non-committal noise then stepped back, looking around the deserted clearing. The well was returned to its normal state, any traces of the magical fire erased as if it had never happened. I really wasn't too surprised; the waters were known to restore what once was lost. It was almost too poetic, really. I entered this clearing afraid to lose the person who'd come to mean everything to me. And now? I looked back at Killian, smiling at the sight of him texting with amazing dexterity, the cell phone anchored against his left arm while his fingers flashed over the buttons. Now I _had_ lost something, but I'd gained so much more…I was no longer the lost girl.

"Who are you texting?" I asked.

"Dave. I thought it prudent to let him know where things stand." His lips twitched as he read something on the screen.

"What is it?" I stepped nearer to him, feeling his amusement leak across the bond.

He slipped the phone into his pocket. "Nothing, love. Your father and son extend their well wishes and said not worry further this evening."

"They did, huh?" I felt my brow lift again.

"Aye. Seems they trust the pirate to take care of their girl."

He pulled me into his arms and I let him, marveling at the beauty of his face in the pale light streaming into the clearing. Be it sun, stars, or moon, the light never failed to reveal the truth of him. "I guess you really are part of the family now."

He smoothed my hair again, letting his fingers trace across my cheek. "Happy Anniversary, love."

The corner of my mouth ticked up in a slight smile. "What are you talking about?"

"It's after midnight. It's exactly one week since we returned from Neverland."

"So it is." I exhaled then turned into Killian's embrace, mumbling into his chest, "It's been a hell of a week. And I suspect there's still more waiting for us."

"There will _always_ be something waiting for us," he laughed.

"But not right now," I smiled against his skin. My incongruous pirate who knew about dates, sexting, anniversaries and tokens of affection…who would lay down his life for me…who waited for me. "I love you, Killian Jones."

"And I you, Emma Swan." His arms tightened around me. "Or perhaps you're ready to consider Emma Jones?" he teased, only, I knew he wasn't teasing. It was there in his voice, that tendril of hope lacing his words just as tenderly as the feeling creeping into my heart.

"It is the twenty-first century; I kind of like the sound of Killian Swan," I replied in monotone, waiting a moment before meeting his blue gaze with my playful green.

His face broke into that sinful smirk I'd come to adore. "Is that a yes then?"

"That depends; was that really your proposal?" I raised my eyebrow in challenge even as my pulse began to pound against my ribcage.

Killian stepped back, his hand sliding down my arm until his fingers captured mine. Slowly, he lowered to his knee, keeping his suddenly serious eyes locked on mine. He licked his lips once then began to speak. "Emma Swan. From the moment I saw you, it was as if my life began again. I lived in darkness for centuries, believing my life had but one purpose. In that, I was right, but it wasn't until you pulled me back into the light that I realized that purpose was to love you. You are my everything…I never knew I could feel this for another person." He paused, shaking his head softly and smiling shyly. I squeezed his fingers once, blinking rapidly and trying to swallow past the swell of emotion in my throat, willing him to keep going. With a cleansing breath he continued; "I have naught to offer you save this…bond or no bond, I will love you with every breath, every beat of my heart, and every part of my soul forever. Would you grant me the highest honor and consent to be my wife?"

"Yes," I whispered, stunned at how absolutely sure I felt in my reply.

"Yes?" He echoed.

I tugged him to his feet. "Yes," I said again before throwing my arms around his neck and pulling his lips to mine. I kissed him with the same things he'd offered me: my heart, my soul, my life. Someone once said tears happened when the soul had too much emotion to hold. As the taste of salt appeared in our kiss, I knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that that person was right.

We rested our foreheads against one another for a long moment after our lips parted, so close that our eyelashes feathered together This close, and in the darkness of the night, it was impossible to make out the color of Killian's eyes, but I could feel the weight of them just the same. One week ago we'd stood aboard the deck of his ship, bathed in the moonlight and contemplating our relationship. And now, we were ready to embark on yet another journey, one that would surely encounter its fair share of stormy weather. But we'd face it together, and that was a condition I could accept.

"You know, Swan…I distinctly recall specifying a list of requests for this momentous occasion," Killian said, his breath teasing against my lips.

I grinned, thinking back on his demands. "I'm pretty sure the flowers and the choir were your conditions if I was the one doing the asking."

He chuckled. "And how about your…conditions? Did I handle _it_ alright?"

I threaded my fingers through his hair, then moved to whisper in his ear, "Play your cards right, pirate, and there's more for you to handle tonight."

I felt the tip of his hook press into my lower back as he shifted closer. "Is that right, Mrs. Jones?"

"Swan-Jones," I corrected, nipping gently at the earring in his right ear.

He sucked in a breath before pulling away. All teasing stripped from his eyes, he held out his hand. "Well then, Mrs. Swan-Jones...what now?"

I took his hand without any hesitation, lacing my fingers with his. His smile seeped into every part of me. Looking into his love-filled eyes, I simply said: "Take me home."

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*_The Steadfast Tin-Soldier, Hans Christian Andersen_

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><p><strong>AN:** I don't even know where to begin. This story, while meant for Emma and Killian, has taken a part of me with it. I actually cried while writing this chapter, lol. Thank you for all the support you've shown, dear reader, and for your patience as the story has unfolded. I've met so many amazing people through this fandom, and I am grateful to call you friends. **Yettoseeyoufail**, this story would not have made it without you!

An epilogue is probably in the works…eventually. I believe Killian still owes Emma a particular 'fun time.' But for now, this tale is mostly complete. As for Captain Swan, the adventures are just beginning! I would be very honored to hear your thoughts about this story, this chapter, or anything you still want answered in the epilogue. Thank you again!


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